


Come Home

by LadyKarai



Category: Final Fantasy IX, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children, Final Fantasy VIII, Final Fantasy X, Final Fantasy X-2, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family, I am not kidding, M/M, Old Fic/Still Good, Pretty much every FF character ever since VII, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-05-31 21:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 54
Words: 289,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6488251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKarai/pseuds/LadyKarai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the Ashika Sakura story of the same name. A single night's mistake separated them for six years. When chance throws them back together, it will take more than love to heal the wounds and bring them home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leon

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here I go. I am porting this monster from its original resting place on FF.net due to the fact that I like it here better. I tend to consider this work my "masterpiece". I hope you agree. Enjoy. -- Karai

_ Tonight is the night. He has no more doubts. Everything is perfect. He has spent the last few weeks planning this night and the last few hours setting it up, even going so far as to put rose petals on the bed. Tonight will be special, a night to remember. Tonight, he will make the love of his life his lover. _

_ He sits on the couch, breathing slowly in and out to calm himself. In spite of this, when the doorbell rings, he jumps up with such excitement that he nearly trips over his own feet. Internally berating himself, he forces his nervousness down and crosses to the door. His hand pauses briefly on the knob as he takes one last breath, and then, he opens the door. _

_ Blue eyes the color of the sea gaze at him from that perfectly-sculpted face. "Hello, Squall." _

_ He smiles and steps back to allow the other entry. But when his love stops just inside the entranceway, he frowns in confusion. _

_ "Aren't you going to take off your coat?" _

_ "No." The eyes drop and shoulders slump as a hand runs through seductively-messy blond hair. After a small sigh, the eyes raise again, and he can see something unfamiliar in them. Something hard. _

_ "Squall, we have to break up." _

_ His eyes widen as he stares, stunned. "What?" _

_ "I'm transferring. To a school back home. And …" The sweet voice he loves so much pauses. The words it speaks sound strained. "I'm getting married." _

_ This time, he cannot even form a reply. His body has frozen; his voice has died. _

_ "Remember a few months back when I went home to comfort a high-school friend? I'm going to marry her. She's pregnant." _

_ "B-but …" He swallows, forces his throat to function. "But why? If she needs help, there are other ways to support her! You don't need to marry her!" _

_ "The child is mine, Squall." _

_ His world splinters and slowly, piece by piece, begins to fall apart. His virginal dreams for the evening warp, wither, and die. His blond angel has cheated on him. With a woman. And now …  _ **_now_ ** _ … _

_ Soft lips press against his in a gentle kiss. When they pull away again, they whisper, "I'm sorry." _

_ It is not until the door closes that he realizes that the other has gone. He does not know how long he stands there, but when his feet begin to move again, they take him to the bedroom. He runs his eyes over all the preparations he has made, and his heart shatters. He throws his head back and roars his distress. Wildly, he flies about the room, knocking over the ice bucket that holds the wine, throwing unlit candles to the ground, and ripping the petal-laden sheets from the bed. His anger burns. His pain screams. _

_ When he finally tires himself out, he curls up on the floor in a corner. His room is a broken mess, just like his heart. He notes with detachment the rose petals scattered everywhere - blood - and the ice that has begun to melt into the carpet - tears. Shutting his eyes, he vows that as soon as he recovers, he will go to the nearest bar and fuck the first person he sees. Something inside him breaks a little more at that thought; he curls in on himself a bit more and cries himself into unconsciousness. _

xXx

The ringing of the bell above the door snapped Leon out of his daydream. Looking up, he recognized a regular customer and gave him a polite nod. The elderly man smiled and nodded back before shuffling off to disappear amidst the shelves. His regulars knew that Leon never smiled and had gotten used to it. It was just one of the things that made Lionhearted Books so unique.

Frowning, Leon gazed out the window into the small town street that passed in front of his store. On the far side of the street a pair of small boys emerged from the candy shop that he himself had frequently visited when he was their age. In those days, he had scoffed at the idea that he would one day inherit his grandfather's book shop. He had been destined for something far more exciting. He was going to tame lions and travel with the circus or become an astronaut and help colonize Mars. Little Squall was going to have a fantastic life full of danger and adventure, not a boring existence of books and payment records and changes to employee benefits …

…  _ and heartbreak _ .

A shot of pain through his chest caused him to wince and shake his head slightly. Six years had passed since that hellish night. Six  _ years _ . Why did he still think of it? Why wouldn't his heart let him forget?

"Hey, Leon, you okay?"

The stoic brunet turned to find one of his employees standing behind him, a basket of cookies in his hands. The younger blond had his head cocked to one side, an expression of concern on his broad, open face.

"Yes, Demyx, I'm fine."

"Oh," Demyx replied, breaking out into his customary bright smile, "because you looked like you were out of it for some reason."

Leon grunted and turned back to his computer where he had been inputting ISBNs before his thoughts had wandered. To steer the conversation away from dangerous things, he asked, "What did you bake this time?"

Demyx somehow smiled even wider and held the basket out for Leon to see. "Peanut butter cookies. They're kind of small. What do you think? Twenty-five cents?"

Leon looked into the basket and assessed the cookies. "Yeah, that seems about right."

"Okay!" The younger man proudly placed the basket in a small display case next to the register and turned to the blackboard behind him to write up the price.

"Oooo, cookies! Lemme taste!"

Leon sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as the owner of the high-pitched voice suddenly appeared as if from nowhere. He knew exactly how this next scene would play out. It happened nearly every day.

"Yuffie! Those are for the customers!"

"Aw, but Demy, you always bake so many! Just one. Pleeeease!"

"No. You want one, you need to pay for it."

"Okay. Leon, take it out of my paycheck, will you?"

Leon grunted as Yuffie reached into the basket and pulled out not one, but two cookies. He wasn't going to take fifty cents out of her paycheck, and she knew it. After all, Demyx's daily baking adventures in Leon's kitchen upstairs were just a way for the struggling musician to pay Leon back for the free room he had provided him. He wasn't about to enforce strict rules on the treats. They were part of the charm of the store. Customers loved finding out what Demyx had felt like cooking for the day, just like they loved seeing what flavor of exotic coffee Leon had brewed. For some people, the books were just an added benefit.

"Wow, Demy," Yuffie said around a mouthful of cookie, "these are good!"

"Thank you," Demyx replied, puffing out his chest a bit. But when Yuffie grabbed another one, he quickly ran over and tried to protect his hard work. "Don't eat them all!"

"This one is for Leon," she announced with a grin. Holding the cookie up to Leon's face, she wheedled, "You want to try them, too, don't you Leon?"

"Yuffie, you are invading my personal space."

"But it's so yummy! Now say aaaaaahh…"

"I will fire you, you know."

"No you won't. You love me too much." Before Leon could reply, Yuffie's shorts began to sing. "Ah!" she cried, dropping the cookie on the counter. "My phone!" She dug into her pocket to answer it. "It's Vincent!" she announced happily.

Leon sighed, "Yuffie, you are working. Your boyfriend can wait."

"Aww, but it's a slow day," she whined as she flipped the phone open. Bringing it to her ear, she gave the two men a wave and wandered off to the other end of the store for some privacy.

As Leon rolled his eyes at her, Demyx came up beside him and leaned his elbows on the counter. "Man, I don't know why you put up with her."

"Because when there is work to do, she does it well," Leon replied. He turned his eyes back to his computer. "She's right. It is a slow day."  _ Which is how I fell into the trap of thinking of him. Damn.  _ His fingers picked up the discarded cookie and brought it to his mouth. Yuffie had been right; they were good. "I didn't realize I had any peanut butter left," he commented to Demyx.

Demyx returned to smiling. "Well, you did, but you don't anymore. I used it all. Oh, and I'll need more eggs before tomorrow, too."

"Okay."

"And hey, you know how you won't let me make pies or cakes or things like that because then we'll need to provide plates and utensils and actual places to sit and stuff?"

"Yes?"

"What if I made like a pound cake and gave it a really thin glaze and then cut it up into a bunch of cubes? Would that work? They'd be about the same size as cookies and a pound cake isn't as crumbly as a real cake. Would that be okay?"

Leon paused in his typing to smirk at his resident aspiring pastry chef. "Why would you want to make that much work for yourself? Are you really that bored with cookies? I thought you and Betty were getting along splendidly."

Demyx shrugged and drummed his fingers on the counter in a seemingly random fashion but which, Leon knew, was most likely some new composition of his. "Ms. Crocker and I are on good terms," he answered, referring to the cookbook that Leon had hand-picked for him from his stock, "but I can't help feeling like I want to see other people."

A quiet chuckle escaped from the older man's throat. "I didn't realize you were such a player, Dem," he teased. Ignoring the other's snort of amusement, he continued, "Do me a favor and go tell Yuffie that just because it's a slow day doesn't mean I don't have work for her to do."

Demyx needed a minute to sort through all the negatives, but then he nodded and straightened up. "Will do." He moved around from behind the counter and wandered off towards the shelves. "Yuffie!" he called in a sing-song voice. "Where are you? Olly olly oxen free!"

Leon smiled a little as he returned to his data entry. He had barely finished typing one number, however, when a sharp cry pulled his attention away yet again.

"Yuffie! Are you okay? What's the matter?"

Instantly concerned by Demyx's words as well as his shocked tone, Leon abandoned his computer and rushed around the counter. He quickly strode down the aisles until he found his two employees, the blond kneeling on the ground next to the brunette. One of Yuffie's hands clutched the phone to her chest; the other clutched desperately onto Demyx. Tears flowed freely down her face as she wept into his shoulder.

"Yuffie," Leon said softly, claiming both of their attentions. "What happened?"

"Did Vincent dump you?" Demyx demanded. "If he did, I'll -"

Yuffie shook her dark head, cutting off his threat to her boyfriend. "No," she managed, her voice strained. "No, it's … a friend of mine from school. … There was an accident. … She's … she's dead." She lifted the hand that held the phone and pressed the back of it to her mouth. After a moment, she had composed herself enough to continue, "She was the sweetest, most beautiful person in the world. So pretty, so kind. A wonderful family. A bright future. But … but … she's dead. She was …" Her eyes streaming, Yuffie turned her gaze to Demyx's sympathetic face. "She was only a year older than me."

"Oh, Yuffie," he breathed, gathering her up in his arms to hold her tightly. "I'm so sorry."

For the next few minutes, Leon watched in silence as Yuffie continued to cry and Demyx tried to comfort her. Then, he turned and walked back to his place at the front of the store. Yuffie would need some time to mourn. Of the two of them, Demyx was far more socially qualified to help than Leon. He would give both of them the rest of the day off, and if Yuffie wanted extra time off this week or the next, he wouldn't begrudge her a second of it.

Leon understood all too well the pain of goodbyes.

xXx

A month passed, then two. Yuffie took a week off to help with her friend's funeral and then spend some time with the woman's family. When she returned, she was happier although still subdued. Leon never said a word to her about it, but he kept an eye on her to make sure she continued to improve. By the time three months had passed, the brunette was as cheerful and energetic as she had ever been, to the point where Leon wondered why he had ever been worried about her in the first place.

"Hey, bossman, can I ask you for a favor?"

Leon paused in his task of returning chairs to the back room and lifted an eyebrow at Yuffie who had addressed him. "What kind of favor?"

Yuffie bent down and picked up a scrap of paper from the floor. The store's bi-weekly poetry workshop had just finished meeting, and someone had apparently left them a sample composition. Leon smirked to himself at the thought. The workshop had been the brainchild of a local "serious" poet who liked to write about nature and the beauty of life, but the class was attended mostly by angsty teenagers who wanted to spout darkness and despair. It was always an amusing hour, at least to Leon.

Ever the harsh critic, Yuffie balled the paper up in her hand before answering his question. "You remember that friend of mine who died a few months ago?" When he nodded, she continued, "Her husband is planning on changing jobs, and the one he wants is around here. He and his two boys are coming in this weekend to look around at houses and schools and stuff. I'm supposed to pick them up at the airport, but I don't have a car." She turned big, pleading eyes to him and finished, "Could you drive me and help pick them up?"

Leon gave her a half-smile. "Sure. Not a problem." Considering how many times he had driven Demyx to and from places, one trip to the airport for Yuffie wouldn't be much trouble. "But," he added after a moment's thought, "how are you planning on fitting all of us into my car?"

"Oh, I can squash in the back with the boys," she replied lightly, waving her hand. "Thanks, Leon." She flashed him a bright smile and went back to man the register.

That afternoon, Leon hung a sign in the window stating that they would be closing early on Friday, and he made sure to mention that fact to a few customers who he knew had irregular hours. When Friday itself came, he and Yuffie closed up, wished Demyx good luck on the performance he had that night, and climbed into Leon's hybrid. Yuffie had brought her own CDs and sang along to them as they drove. Thankfully, Leon was in a good mood, so he didn't mind that much. However, he flat out refused when she begged him to join in. Leon would dance if pressed hard enough and if given a glass or two of alcohol beforehand, but he did not, repeat  _ not_, sing. Ever.

They reached the airport a little later than they had hoped and it took Leon a bit of looking to find a parking space that wasn't a mile away, so by the time they entered the building Yuffie suggested that they just go to Baggage Claim rather than try to find the correct gate. Leon agreed with a shrug and followed after her as she skipped along, still singing quietly to herself.

"So," he said when she finally stopped in front of one of the giant circular conveyor belts, "you never told me this guy's name or what he looks like."

"I didn't?" she asked innocently as she scanned the crowd. "Well, he's young, blond, and cute, and he'll have two rugrats in tow." She craned her neck around for a bit before jumping and crying out, "Oh! There he is! Cloud! Over here!"

Leon froze.

_ Cloud? _

"Yuffie!" a too-familiar voice answered from a neighboring luggage carousel.

"Cloud!" she yelled and took off.

Leon watched in horror as Yuffie ran straight for a young man with messy blond hair, a beautiful face, and eyes the color of the sea. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he reciprocated, smiling brightly. That smile was blinding. It burned Leon's eyes. It pierced his chest and skewered his heart. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't move. That smile that had haunted his dreams for years caught him and held him fast.

"Where are the rugrats?" Yuffie was saying, looking around.

"We're right here," a younger voice replied.

"And we're  _ not _ rugrats," another complained.

Leon watched in astonishment as two young boys walked up, returning from the direction of the restrooms, and flanked Cloud on either side. They were identical in appearance except for their hair and their smiles. The brunet grinned joyfully, throwing his arms around Yuffie and squeezing tightly. The blond had a much smaller smile on his face, wistful and a bit sad, as he hung back by the older man. Both boys looked about fifteen. Leon blinked at them, momentarily feeling confusion overtake the overwhelming pain.

"How was your flight?"

"It was fine," the brunet boy answered, "although Dad got airsick."

"I did not," Cloud replied, cuffing him lightly on the head.

"Oh come on, Dad," the blond said with a sly grin. "You were practically green."

Yuffie laughed.

Leon felt nauseous.

_ Dad? _

Where was the baby? The baby had been the entire reason for the break-up. Hadn't it? But Leon saw no baby, only teenage twins who were obviously adopted. So that must have meant that Cloud had lied to him before running off to get married and have a perfect little family while Leon rotted in depression and anguish. He had been cheated on, lied to, and dumped by the person he had loved with all his soul.

What else had Cloud lied about?

"Okay, let's get your stuff and go," Yuffie said, grabbing a suitcase out of Cloud's hand. "My boss Leon graciously agreed to drive you to your hotel, so be sure to thank him, okay?" She turned and gestured towards him.

Those blue eyes followed the direction of her hand and finally,  _ finally _ noticed him. As their eyes locked, Cloud's face blanked out and his body stiffened. The rest of the world seemed to melt away like a clichéd scene from a sappy romance. Except there were no violins playing in this moment. Only cold, empty silence that made it damn hard to breathe. Those beautiful eyes glimmered with a range of violent emotions as they gazed at him. Shock. Horror. Pain. Everything that Leon had felt moments ago. However, Leon did not care. His heart had hardened to ice.

Yuffie and the boys had begun to move, but they stopped when they realized that Cloud had not followed. The brunette looked back and forth between the two adult men for a moment, searching their faces, before asking, "What's the matter? You guys know each other?"

Cloud did not answer her. Instead, he took a single step forward and whispered, "Squall?"

Leon did the only thing he could think of. He turned and walked away. And when he got to his car, he got in and drove home, leaving the four of them behind.


	2. Cloud

_His sneakers slap loudly against the stones as he sprints down the sidewalk. His lungs are burning, each breath a taste of salty fire, but he does not dare stop. Finally, the building appears, and he puts his head down and draws on his last reserves to make it the rest of the way._

_When he enters the auditorium, chest heaving, face slick with sweat, he looks around and his heart drops. He is not late - the professor has yet to arrive - but hundreds of students already fill the seats. Hopefully, he casts his eyes about, looking for one vacant seat on the ground level, but he can find none. With a sigh and a muffled curse, he turns and looks up at the balconies. There are seats up there, but they are extremely high up and his legs are already screaming at him from the run. The thought of climbing makes him want to howl hysterically and start hitting things._

_"Hey."_

_The voice startles him. He looks over at the first row of balcony seats to find a strange brunet regarding him with a bored expression. The other man removes a coat and backpack from the seat next to him and says, "Sit down."_

_Practically fainting with relief, he falls into the chair and puts his own bag on the floor in the aisle. "Thanks," he breathes._

_The brunet just half-shrugs and fiddles with his mechanical pencil. His gray eyes watch as the tired blond pulls out a spiral notebook and his own pencil in preparation for class. He comments, "You look like you just ran here from the other side of campus."_

_"I_ **_did_** _," he answers in annoyance. He blows a breath upwards to clear the bangs from his face before stating, "Next time I go to register for classes, I'm taking a goddamn_ **_map_ ** _with me."_

_The other chuckles but says nothing else, and eventually the professor appears and starts class. He listens and dutifully takes notes; he has no real interest in this subject, but he needs to take a few humanities classes to appease his advisor. This class has a reputation for being easy which is probably why so many people are taking it along with him._

_When class ends, he shoves his notebook back into his bag and rises, intending to go to lunch, but his neighbor stops him again._

_"Hey."_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Are you going to be sprinting to get here next time, too?"_

_He sighs. "Yes. And every time after that. I really fucked myself with this schedule."_

_The brunet smirks at him. "Well don't. I don't have a class before this one, so I'll come early and save you a seat."_

_He gapes for a moment in thrilled astonishment before crying, "Really? Thanks so much … um …" Blinking, he realizes that he never asked the other's name._

_"Squall," he answers the unspoken question. "Squall Leonhart."_

_"Squall," he repeats, smiling. "Nice to meet you. I'm Cloud Strife."_

_Squall nods, his smirk widening to a small smile, and throws his bag over his shoulder. He picks up his coat and moves past the blond to the aisle. Before he leaves, he calls over his shoulder, "See you Wednesday, Cloud."_

xXx

Cloud sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing away a threatening headache with ink-stained fingers. He really had to stop daydreaming like that. He had several deadlines coming up, architects and project managers calling all day long, and an enormous stack of shop drawings which certainly weren't going to mark themselves. The last thing he needed was to slip into another of his periodic bouts of depression brought on by thoughts of the past. That part of his life was over; the door had closed. He needed to concentrate on the here and now.

As if summoned by his thoughts, one of the small company's drafters appeared in his doorway. "Cloud? You got a minute?"

"Yeah," he replied, pushing back from his desk to get to his feet. "What do you need?"

The two fell into an involved conversation about one of Cloud's jobs, referring to the drawings the drafter had brought when necessary. Like many of the projects he dealt with every day, this one had started off relatively simple but had become more and more complicated as the clients added things and changed their minds about what they wanted. Cloud wasn't a bit surprised that the man he had recruited to help him was confused. For the better part of half an hour, he listened to his co-worker's questions and answered them as clearly as he could.

When his phone rang, he ignored it. He was in the middle of an explanation and didn't feel like allowing the interruption. Whoever it was could leave a message and he would return the call as soon as he was finished. But then, his phone beeped once and the secretary's slightly distorted voice came through the intercom.

"Cloud? There's a call for you on line two."

He sighed and took his pencil out of his mouth where he had stored it so that he could use his calculator. "Can it wait, Jean? I'm in the middle of something."

"I … I don't think so," she replied. The hesitation in her voice surprised him. "It's someone from St. John's Hospital. Cloud, he … mentioned something about your wife."

Pencil, papers, and calculator tumbled to the ground as Cloud lunged for his phone. His shaking fingers punched the buttons to bring up line two. As soon as he heard the little click of the connection, he barked, "This is Cloud Strife."

"Ah, yes," a man's voice responded, sounding surprised at being taken off of hold so abruptly. "This is Dr. Michael Hopkins from St. John's Hospital. Mr. Strife, I'm afraid I have some bad news for you concerning -"

"What happened?" Cloud demanded, cutting off the doctor's gentle flow of words. "Is Aerith hurt? How badly?"

The doctor paused to clear his throat and compose himself after the rapid-fire questions. When he spoke again, the softness had left his voice. "Your wife was in a car accident, Mr. Strife," he stated crisply, guessing correctly that Cloud did not want anything sugar-coated. "Right now, she's unconscious and critical. I strongly suggest that you get here as quickly as you can."

"An accident," Cloud repeated to himself. Speaking again to the doctor, he asked, "When did it happen?"

"About twenty minutes ago."

Cloud's eyes sought the clock over his desk, and what he saw sent cold realization shooting through his body. It was only a little past three. Twenty minutes ago, Aerith would have been returning home after picking up the boys from school. His hand slammed down on the desk next to the phone, causing his forgotten co-worker to jump in surprise. Heads turned towards his office from all over the main room as he shouted, "My sons! _What about my sons?_ "

"Calm down, Mr. Strife," Dr. Hopkins urged. "Your sons will be fine. They both sustained minor injuries, but they will make complete recoveries. Your wife, however, was broadsided. She's receiving emergency surgery right now, but it doesn't look good. Again, I _strongly_ suggest -"

"I'll be right there," he announced and hung up before the doctor could say anything in reply. As he snatched up his coat and bag, he yelled out rather than use the phone, "Jean! Tell Gary I'm taking the rest of the week off!"

"The whole week?"

Cloud stopped and sent a look of death towards his co-worker who had remained in his office. The drafter fidgeted under his gaze a bit before gesturing with the papers he had recovered from the floor. "What if Henry calls?" he asked.

"If Henry calls," Cloud replied in an icy voice that grew hotter with each word, "you tell him that my wife and kids are in the hospital and that if he so much as opens his mouth to complain about my absence, I will take a fucking wide flange and _shove_ it up his _ass!_ " He paused for a breath before asking, "Got that?"

The drafter swallowed painfully. "Yes, sir."

"Good."

As Cloud flew through the main room heading in the direction of the front door, some of the other employees tried to offer their support with low-voiced words and sympathetic glances. Cloud raced by all of them. The only sound he could hear was the drumming beat of his shoes on the carpet and then on the outside pavement as he ran and ran.

xXx

It simply wasn't fair, he thought to himself as he stood against the far wall of the viewing room. She had deserved so much better than this. She had been beautiful, gentle, kind, and all she had wanted was a quiet life with a loving family and a happy home. Instead, she had suffered through a broken heart, a marriage to a man who didn't love her, and the painful realization that she was physically unable to carry a child to full term. And then to have her life cut short like this, in such a violent way. It just wasn't fair.

"Dad?"

He looked up at his boys as they approached. A short stab of pain shot through him as he realized they were holding hands, just like they had done for months after bringing them home from the orphanage. This wasn't fair on them either. To give them the love and security of a real family that they had always longed for, only to pull it out from under them again.

Sora, who had gotten his attention, half-smiled and said, "We're done. It's your turn."

Cloud nodded and stood up from the wall. He gently laid a hand on each boy's head and smoothed their hair as he took a moment to look at them. Sora had fractured his left arm and Roxas had a massive black eye and other bruising on his face, but that had been the extent of their injuries. Their mother had taken the brunt of the collision, almost as if she had gathered all the force from the impact and directed it to her own body.

_Which she most certainly would have done anyway had she been given the choice._

Sighing gently, he walked past his sons and towards the rosewood coffin that sat on the other side of the room. Dozens of people had come to pay their respects to her that evening. High school and college friends, family members, co-workers. But they had all left, leaving the woman's children and husband to speak to her alone.

Cloud knelt on the little stool that the funeral home had provided and folded his hands on the edge of the coffin. Inside, Aerith lay peacefully, surrounded by flowers. She wore her favorite pink dress and pink ribbons in her hair which framed her face in a soft mass of brown curls. Sora and Roxas had insisted on doing her hair themselves, brushing and curling for almost an hour, quietly crying the entire time. They had done their best to hide the gashes in her head and neck, and what they couldn't hide with hair they had covered with flowers. In the quiet of his mind, Cloud thanked them for their efforts as well as for the funeral home's suggestion that only the top half of the casket be open for viewing. He didn't think he could handle seeing her mangled lower body right now.

A slow breath in, another out, and he opened his heart.

"Aerith, I'm sorry. Not for the accident. Believe it or not, I do realize that that wasn't my fault. For everything else. I know I'm not the one you wanted. In spite of that, I thought I could at least ease your pain, but it turned out I couldn't do that either. And you …" He paused, ran a finger down her cold cheek. "You never complained. Even though I had dedicated the rest of my life to helping you keep a smile on your face, you're the one who moved on first, suggested we adopt. You're the one who brought light back into _my_ life. It should have been the other way around, Aer." He paused, bit his lip as tears began to slide down his face. "I'm sorry. I did my best, but I can't help feeling that I should have done more. I just … I really wanted one of us to be happy."

The tears fell fast, and he closed his eyes against them. "Rest now," he whispered to her. "I'll take care of the boys. Don't worry about us; we'll be fine."

Feeling tired and far older than his twenty-five years, Cloud lowered his chin and rested his forehead against the cool wood of his wife's coffin. He sat there for several heartbeats, listening to the sound of his own breathing, and waited for the flow of tears to stop. When they had, he rose and crossed the room to his sons. Gently, he untangled their hands from one another - they didn't resist - and, holding a smaller hand in each of his own, he guided them out the door. Sora and Roxas looked back, but Cloud did not.

They would be back tomorrow morning to say their final goodbyes.

xXx

He had expected a little more resistance. After all, Sora and Roxas had spent the last three years growing accustomed to this place. They had finally begun to make friends and participate in school activities. When Cloud had played out the discussion in his head, it had involved far more whining and refusals to leave. So when he sat them down to talk about it, he explained the move in terms that he thought they would most appreciate: a higher salary and better benefits meant more money to be spent on a bigger house and more luxuries.

"Will we have our own rooms?" Roxas had asked.

"Yes."

"And a bigger yard?" Sora had added.

"Yes, if you want one."

They had looked at each other in that twin way that he found so fascinating, looked back, and said in unison, "We want a dog."

And then they had both risen and gone up to their room to finish their homework before going to hang out with their friends.

Cloud had spent a full minute at the table with his mouth hanging open.

So here he was, standing in the airport being squashed to death by Yuffie. The sheer amount of energy the girl had never ceased to amaze him. When Vincent had first introduced her, Cloud had thought his best friend had gone mad, but she had quickly won him over with her cheerful personality and her pure spunk. He still had no idea what Vin of all people was doing as her boyfriend, but as long as they were happy, he was glad to have her around.

After Yuffie had greeted the boys and the three of them had laughed at the obligatory joke about Cloud's ever-present motion sickness, she grabbed a suitcase from him and pulled away. "My boss Leon graciously agreed to drive you to your hotel, so be sure to thank him, okay?" She lifted a hand and waved at someone a fair bit behind her.

Cloud followed the gesture with his eyes, intending to thank the man immediately, but the words of gratitude froze on his lips. A set of eyes had been staring at him from a few feet away, waiting for him to notice. Gray eyes, bright, fierce, and terribly, terribly cold. Eyes that Cloud had never been able to forget, set in a proud, handsome face that likewise had been etched permanently into Cloud's memory.

This wasn't possible. He wasn't supposed to still be here. He was supposed to have moved on. That door had closed. Cloud didn't think he could handle it being opened again, especially in the face of the other's hard, unforgiving expression.

Yuffie had stopped moving, Sora and Roxas a few paces behind her. Confusion clear on her open face, she turned her head first to one frozen man, then the other. "What's the matter?" she asked after a minute. "You guys know each other?"

A distant part of Cloud's mind registered the question, but he could not answer. He was lost within himself, drowning in shock and the pain of having old wounds ripped open and made to bleed once more. His chest had constricted to the point where it was hard to breathe and his body felt as if had been filled with concrete, but somehow he managed to take a single step forward and ask in a fearful whisper, "Squall?"

The brunet in front of him did not answer. Instead, storm-cloud eyes narrowed for the briefest of seconds before vanishing completely. The other man had turned his back on him and was rapidly walking away with long-legged strides.

"Hey!" Yuffie yelled, effectively breaking Cloud out of his trance. "Leon! Wait up!"

She lunged forward, Sora and Roxas following, but the luggage she carried and her naturally shorter legs kept her from catching up. By the time Cloud had shaken himself completely awake and caught up to the three of them, Yuffie had given up the chase.

"It's okay," she told them as they continued to walk, more slowly now. "I remember where we parked."

When they got there, however, the space was empty. The string of swear words that Yuffie let fly made Cloud wince and want to cover his own ears to say nothing of those of his boys. They stood silently by, shoulders touching, both sets of blue eyes watching him warily. The expressions in those eyes more than anything snapped Cloud back to normal.

"Yuffie, Yuffie," he soothed, taking the irate girl by the arm, "let's just go back in and get a taxi."

She continued to swear violently under her breath but allowed herself to be led back to the airport and the line of taxis that waited outside the doors. Cloud picked one, ushered the other three into the back seat, and then calmly helped the driver load their bags into the trunk. He gave directions to Yuffie's apartment first and then to the hotel before climbing in himself.

Yuffie was leaving a scathing message on Leon's answering machine. When she finished, she snapped her phone shut and turned on him. "What's the deal, Cloud? Do you know him or what?"

Cloud turned his face to the window and answered simply, "Yes."

The brunette waited impatiently for more, but he had no intention of explaining further. Not in front of his sons. Eventually, she gave up and called Leon again, leaving another message, this one even nastier.

By the time the taxi arrived at Yuffie's apartment complex, Leon had four messages waiting for him and Sora and Roxas were trying hard to suppress their sniggers. When the car stopped, Cloud got out as well, shutting the door behind them. With one hand still on the door, he dug out his own phone and turned it on.

"What's his number?" he asked lowly.

But Yuffie planted her fists on her hips and frowned. "Uh-uh, no way! I am not giving you his number until you tell me how you know him."

He sighed but capitulated. "He's my ex. That's all you need to know."

"Seriously?" she cried, eyes going wide. "I didn't know you were bi! Did Aer know?"

"Yuffie!" he hissed, indicating the closed door. "Lower your voice."

She rolled her eyes at the implication but obeyed. "Well, sorry for the awkwardness, but I didn't know."

"It's okay," he assured her. "Now, the number?" She gave it, and he entered it into his contact list. "Thanks," he murmured, closing the phone again.

"Not a problem," she replied, suddenly serious. Before he could question her, she stepped forward and slipped her arms around his neck. "I'm here for you if you need me, Cloud. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," he whispered, hugging her back. "I know."

She nodded against his shoulder and then pulled back with a smile. "G'night." Suddenly grinning, she leaned down and rapped her knuckles against the window. "Night, rugrats!" she yelled to the boys inside.

"Good night!" they yelled back, although Roxas added, "And we're _not_ rugrats!"

Laughing, Yuffie waved one final time before disappearing into her building. Cloud watched the door shut behind her and then climbed back into the taxi for the drive to the hotel.

When they arrived, he went through the motions of checking in and settling into the room. He hustled Sora and Roxas around, getting them ready for bed as if they were five instead of fifteen. They let him do it, still watching him carefully as if they understood what had happened that night, as if they knew his history as well as he did. He refused to let himself think of that, however, until both boys were securely in bed and the lights were turned off. Then, there in the quiet darkness, Cloud stood next to the window, placed one hand gently on the glass, and gazed out at the stars.

So Squall still lived here. Now that the shock had worn off and he took a moment to think about it, Cloud supposed that it wasn't really that surprising. The brunet had grown up in this town, and he had mentioned a few times that he would probably inherit his grandfather's bookstore. The more Cloud thought about it, the more he realized he should have expected something like this evening's confrontation to happen eventually.

Yet, that knowledge would not have stopped him from wanting to move here. Cloud had never doubted for a moment that Squall had forgotten him and moved on. How could he have not? Cloud had broken up with him so abruptly - almost cruelly - to ensure that his love would have no qualms about discarding him for another. And while Cloud had loved Squall deeply and always would, he doubted that his boyfriend had returned his feelings that strongly. Six whole years had passed. Surely Squall would have found someone else, and without a doubt, he wouldn't want Cloud back.

And yet, those eyes had told of a different story. With growing horror, Cloud wondered if he had been wrong all this time. The storms in those eyes had spoken of years of suffering, of a pain as intense as the one Cloud had endured. A sudden nausea gripped him as memories began to pour forth unbidden. After Aerith's first pregnancy had failed, she had offered to set him free. The baby had been what had bound them together in the first place, and without it, he had no reason to stay with her. She had offered him a divorce. He had refused. She had still needed him to help her through the grief, and he had thought - no, he had _known_ \- that he no longer had a love to which to return.

In the darkness of the hotel room, Cloud clamped a hand over his mouth and bent nearly double with the weight of realization. Squall _hadn't_ forgotten him. And if he had taken that divorce five years ago and come back, more than likely Squall would have accepted and forgiven him. But now … now it was too late. The icy anger in those eyes had stated with perfect clarity that forgiveness could no longer be obtained. He had been wrong, terribly wrong, but there was nothing now that he could do to correct his countless mistakes.

Cloud's knees gave out. He collapsed into a nearby chair and, with one hand covering his eyes and the other fisted into his mouth, dissolved into desperate, hopeless tears.


	3. Demyx

_His guitar case bangs against his lower back with each step, pounding a rhythm into his body as he walks. His eyes search along the shop fronts for a suitable place. The owner of the last store kicked him out far too quickly. He needs to choose more carefully this time._

_Eventually, he stops in front of a quaint-looking bookstore. One flip-flop taps a beat into the sidewalk as he considers it, head tipped to one side. Larger chains have a varied clientele, but small ones like this tend to be patronized by people in his target group. Coming to a decision, he nods and slings the guitar off of his back. A moment later he has settled himself in front of the store, tuned instrument resting on crossed legs, empty case lying open with a few coins from his own pocket thrown in to seed it. Shutting his eyes, he lets the music take over._

_He is in the middle of his third song when he first notices the brunet leaning against the store's doorframe. The man is watching him with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow of interest. However, he makes no move to boot the musician away from the store, so the singer ignores him. He instead continues to send his suffering to Adia, trying to convince her of their eternal innocence using only his gentle tenor voice as argument._

_Thirty minutes after he began, he has sung half a dozen songs and acquired a little less than twenty dollars in singles and assorted change. He stops and reaches for the bottle of water that he brought with him, needing a break to rehydrate his vocal chords. The man in the doorway stirs. He pauses mid-swallow to lock gazes with him. Lowering the bottle, he grins and asks, "Have any requests?"_

_The stranger shakes his head. "No."_

_"Gonna throw me out?"_

_The other man smiles a little. "I was," he admits, "but then I changed my mind. As long as you don't scare my customers away, you can stay."_

_He tips his head back and takes a look at the name of the store, something he hadn't bothered to do before. Lionhearted Books. Grinning again, he inquires, "Are you King Richard, then?"_

_His question produces an actual chuckle from the stoic owner. He seems to appreciate the musician's knowledge of history and quick thinking. "That's right," he answers. He shifts his weight to the other foot and nods at the guitar. "I'm a little surprised at your choice of music, although I have to admit you have a fine voice."_

_"Thanks," he smiles. Then, in response to the other remark, he shrugs and comments, "The music is nice and the chicks like it."_

_King Richard snorts. "You're a well-groomed young man in flip-flops singing Sarah McLachlan in front of a bookstore. Forgive me if I find it hard to believe that you're interested in chicks."_

_He throws back his head and laughs. "That's true! However …" He taps the case with one foot. "There's nothing wrong with their money."_

_"Point well taken."_

_He takes another drink before screwing the cap back on the bottle. Readjusting the guitar a bit, he starts checking its tuning in preparation for another performance. The brunet watches him for a moment in contemplative silence. Then, he asks, "How does Sarah treat you? Do you like working for her?"_

_Surprised by the question, he looks up at the other man. After a moment of thought, he shrugs and says, "She treats me well enough. The hours are good and the work is enjoyable." He smiles and adds, "She doesn't have healthcare though."_

_"I bet she doesn't," the reply comes. "But I do."_

_Now thoroughly shocked, he stares at the other for several heartbeats. The gray eyes in that angular face are completely serious. Finally, he finds enough of his voice to ask, "Are you offering me a job, my liege?"_

_"Perhaps," he answers with a small smirk. "Are you interested?"_

_He considers. Calloused fingers run over the curves of his instrument. He loves doing this, but the sidewalk is rather hard on the backside and the pay … . Blue-green eyes roam over the inside of the case. Today he has made a fair amount, but yesterday he made almost nothing and tomorrow … ?_

_He stands. "I'm interested enough to hear more."_

_The king nods and stands up from the doorframe. "All right," he smiles. "Come on in, and we'll talk."_

_As the other disappears into the store, he quickly packs up his guitar, lifts the case onto his shoulder, and follows him inside._

xXx

"Good job, Dem! Nice set."

Breathing heavily from the rush of adrenaline, Demyx grinned at Axel and tried not to stagger too much when the red-head slapped him on the back. Out on stage, the emcee was encouraging the audience to "give it up" for the blond performer, and they complied readily. Demyx's entire body tingled. It felt so good to be known and appreciated, even if it was only by the Friday night crowd at Luxord's bar.

As Demyx carefully placed his guitar back in its case, Axel cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders. "My turn," he announced with a wild gleam in his eye. Turning to the blond, he ordered, "Pay attention tonight, Dem. I've got a few new tricks up my sleeve."

Demyx nodded at him before knocking back half a bottle of water. "Knock 'em dead, Ax," he croaked once his throat was moist enough to function.

"I always do, my friend," Axel replied smoothly. "I always do." He flashed the other man a quick victory sign before strutting confidently onto the stage, creating a mild frenzy in the audience at his appearance.

Feeling much calmer now, Demyx rose to his feet and walked over to a spot still hidden within the wings but from which he could easily watch his friend. Axel's act was always memorable. The red-head's routine was mostly stand-up comedy with a dose of magic thrown in. What made it completely one of a kind was the fact that all of the tricks involved Axel burning something. If Tim Allen's signature line was "So I rewired it," Axel's was "So I set it on fire." In just a few performances, he had acquired a huge following, but this particular bar was still the only one who would book him. Only Luxord, a friend of the two since childhood, trusted Axel enough to allow the highly flammable act into his establishment.

As Axel told jokes and burned things on stage, Demyx nursed his water bottle and watched from the wings. During an unusual moment of quiet in the performance, he thought he heard a soft _click_ from somewhere behind him, but when he turned around, he saw nothing. Shrugging it off as a trick of his ears, he turned back to the stage.

Shortly before the finale of Axel's act, Luxord appeared, carrying a Long Island Iced Tea in one hand and a Bloody Mary in the other. Demyx nodded to him but did not move to take his drink until Axel had bowed himself off of the stage, chased by waves of cheers. Once the blond bar owner had given his entertainers their customary drinks, he pulled a beer out of his pocket and lifted it in a toast.

"Congratulations, gentlemen, on another fine performance."

"Thank you, thank you," Axel replied with a flourish. "So glad to be of service."

"Thanks for the stage time, Luxord," Demyx added with a smile.

"You're welcome," he replied. Running a shrewd eye over both of them, he asked, "Care to do a repeat of this evening next week?"

"So soon?" Demyx asked hopefully in return.

"Both of us?" Axel chimed in before taking a swig of his drink.

"Yes." Luxord tapped the bottle against his teeth a bit before explaining, "Axel brings in the guys with their love of explosions, Demyx brings in their doe-eyed girlfriends, and I get them all drunk off their arses. Sounds like a winning situation to me."

The two performers laughingly agreed, and they spent the next few minutes working out details for the following week. Once everything had been settled, Axel and Luxord continued to chat while Demyx knelt down beside his case, intending to buckle everything up in preparation for the trip home. Before he could close the lid, however, something glossy caught his eye. Confused, he leaned down a bit more and discovered it was a picture that had been slipped below the instrument's strings just above the bridge. A picture of him performing during an open mike night at another bar in town.

Someone had slipped backstage and placed a picture of him on his guitar while he was busy watching Axel.

"Holy fuck!" he yelped.

His two friends looked down on him in surprise. "What?" the red-head asked.

Demyx snatched the picture out of his guitar and held it up to them with trembling fingers. "I'm being _stalked_!"

"Is that so?" Luxord asked calmly. He plucked the picture out of Demyx's hand and examined it. After a moment, he said, "Apparently it is. Congratulations, Dem."

Axel laughed, grabbing the picture so he could take a closer look at it. "Yeah, congrats, man. You're well on your way to becoming a star now."

Demyx pouted fiercely. "It's not funny!" he yelled at them. "I was right here and I didn't notice anyone! I could have been attacked!" He swallowed hard as the words he had just said sank in. Sitting back on his heels, he wrapped his arms around himself and mumbled, "Oh god, I'm being stalked. What am I going to do? Oh god …"

"Demyx," Luxord sighed, leaning down to clap him on the shoulder, "calm yourself. It's just a picture. More than likely some autograph seeker snuck backstage, chickened out when she saw you, and left you the picture as a kind of tribute. You're getting all worked up over nothing."

"Seriously, Dem," Axel added. "Chill. No one's going to rape you." He flicked his wrist and expertly sent the picture fluttering into Demyx's case. "It's a good photo, you know," he commented. "Whoever took it has a good eye."

Smirking, Luxord straightened up and added, "Perhaps you could hire her to do some publicity photos for you."

Ignoring Luxord's comment and Axel's subsequent laughter, Demyx grumbled to himself and slammed the case's lid shut, sealing the picture inside with his instrument. He truly doubted this would be a one-time incident. After all, now that he thought about it, that soft click that he had heard earlier in the evening had sounded an awful lot like a camera taking a picture from somewhere in the darkness.

xXx

It was a quarter after midnight when Axel finally dropped Demyx off at the apartment he shared with Leon. Tired and irritated, the blond musician pulled himself from his friend's car and headed towards the back entrance. When the red-head yelled to him out the window, something about making sure to check under his bed for big bad stalkers, he didn't bother to turn around. Just flipped the asshole off while still plodding forward.

The lights in the main room were still on when he opened the door. Leon was nowhere to be seen, however, and after a quick glance down the hall to see darkness under the other man's bedroom door, Demyx concluded that he had gone to bed. Sighing happily at the prospect of a warm shower and sleep, the blond dropped his keys on the table next to Leon's, set his guitar down by the door, and began moving towards his own room.

A flashing red light stopped him.

Demyx tipped his head a bit as he considered the answering machine. Common sense suggested that he leave it for the morning, but his curiosity had always been the stronger of the two. The battle lasted only a few seconds, and soon Demyx had plopped himself down in a chair and was pushing the button to play back the recordings.

"You have … nine … new messages."

His jaw dropped. Nine messages? How early had Leon gone to bed? The surprise he had felt at the number, however, quadrupled when the first voice he heard was Yuffie's. She sounded absolutely livid.

"Leon! What the _fuck_! You _left_ us, you bastard! I swear, you better have a good explanation for this or I'm going _ninja_ on your ass the next time I see you." She ranted a little bit longer before demanding that he call her back and hanging up.

The next message was also Yuffie. As was the next. And the next. Demyx sat there, stunned, as the messages played out. At some point she mentioned taking a taxi back to her apartment and informed Leon that he would be paying her back for the fare. More threats followed that statement, some of them to rather intimate parts of Leon's anatomy. Thankfully, Demyx's brain was too shocked and confused to construct the images in his head; otherwise, he might have been doubled over in sympathetic pain.

Somewhere around the fifth message, Yuffie's tone changed. She still sounded angry, but she seemed to have calmed down. The threats stopped, and the messages mostly consisted of reprimands and orders for him to call her. In her final message, she just sounded tired.

"Look, Leon, Cloud told me, okay? That you two used to be together. I guess it must have been a real shock to you to see him again. I still think you're a dick for leaving us like that, but ... I kind of understand, you know? I get it. I think. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I mean, how could I? Neither of you brooding bastards ever tell me anything. But anyway … whatever. I'm tired and I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow at work, alright? And then you'd better apologize or I'll kick your ass anyway. Night, Leon."

"End of messages."

A slow, soft breath slid through Demyx's dry lips. He could barely believe it. Leon had pitched a fit in the middle of the airport and run off. Surely not. Not their Leon. Not his regal employer who approached everything from overstock to power outages with the same calm demeanor. The lionhearted king would never do such a thing.

Would he?

Demyx turned his head to the hallway, examining once again that closed door. Slowly, as if in a dream, he rose from his chair and advanced on it. His hand rose without input from his brain and knocked gently on the wood.

"Leon?" he called. "Are you awake?" When he received no answer, his hand dropped to the knob and turned. It was unlocked. "Leon, I'm coming in," he warned before pushing the door open.

As soon as the light from the hallway spilled over the form on the bed, Demyx knew that Leon was not asleep. His entire body was rigid, and it positively radiated pain. The musician paused in the doorway for a heartbeat, trying to catch his breath from the shock of it. Now he believed what Yuffie had said or implied. This man before him was completely unlike the one he knew. The man on the bed held a heart that had shattered into pieces; he could feel it from where he stood.

Demyx swallowed, stepped into the room, and closed the door behind him, shutting out the light once again. With soft steps, he crossed the room to the bed and sat down at the foot of it. Leon did not move. For a moment, Demyx said nothing. He simply stared at his employer and friend, wondering how he could not have known about the other man's pain. It must have been haunting him for years. Demyx had known him for two and Yuffie for more, and yet neither of them had had any idea that Leon carried a broken heart in his proud chest. He had hidden it so well for so long, and yet it obviously had not healed even a bit in all that time.

"Leon," he said, finally breaking the silence, "I know you're awake. I can feel your tension from here." When Leon still refused to respond, he sighed and continued, "There are nine messages on the machine, all of them from Yuffie. Did you really abandon her at the airport?" He waited for a heartbeat just in case before telling him, "She caught a cab and is home okay. Her friends are at their hotel. She demanded you pay her for the cab fare, but considering the amount of free food she's gotten, I think you're even." He chuckled a little at his joke, but the amusement quickly left him in the face of the other man's continued silence. After another pause, he said, "In her last message, she said that Cloud had told her about the two of you."

Finally, Leon moved: a small wince. Demyx waited for some other reaction, any indication that the other might speak, but after several minutes of nothing, he gave up. In a gentle voice, he tried one final time. "If you want to talk about it, I'll be here. Good night."

He rose from the bed and began to walk to the door, but a sudden movement behind him and a low voice interrupted his exit.

"Demyx?"

Demyx turned hopefully back to the bed and the man who had rolled over to face him. "Yeah?"

Leon's dark eyes somehow managed to shine at him even in the low lighting. "Call Yuffie and tell her she's fired." Not waiting for a response, he rolled over again and slammed a pillow over his head like a petulant child.

Demyx stood there for a moment in dismay, but he quickly recovered. He left Leon's room, closing the door behind him, and began wandering through the apartment, turning off lights as he went. When he had finished, he retreated to his own room and began stripping off his clothing which, thanks to the bar, stank of smoke and booze. He had done what he could. He didn't know what else he could do. And considering Leon's current mood, he figured he should leave it at that. He certainly didn't want to get fired as well.

Before climbing into bed, he called Yuffie's cell and left a message, afterwards thanking God that she had turned it off. The last thing he wanted on this evening of stalkers, pissed-off bosses, and broken hearts was Yuffie threatening to go ninja on _his_ ass.


	4. Sora and Roxas

_They sit together on the floor, backs to the wall, hands joined between them. Each has a comic book on his lap, and every so often one will raise his free hand to turn a page. Elsewhere in the room, the other children play or relax as well, by themselves or in groups. This is routine for them. They do it every time someone comes to the orphanage looking for a child to take home._

_When the door opens and Sister enters the room, they do not even look up. The whispers have traveled through the children already. This couple is looking for a young child, the younger the better. They, at twelve years old, have no chance. Even when the prospective parents are open to the thought of almost-teenagers, they know they have no chance. For the adults are always looking for one, not two, and they will not be separated. Never. Not for anything._

_Sister is walking through the room, the couple following. She speaks to a few children, urging them to go play. While Sister is busy, the young woman looks about the room. Her green eyes stop on the twins against the wall. She smiles._

_When she walks up to them, they do not acknowledge her. When she kneels down next to them, they ignore her. They know she doesn't want them._

_"Hello," she says with a friendly smile. "What are your names?"_

_They pause in their reading and exchange quick glances. Usually, the adults only ask for one of their names. As if they are already resolved to tear them apart. But they know better than to trust this woman. They return to their comic books and refuse to answer._

_Surprisingly, she is not deterred. "I'm sorry," she says, laughing lightly, "I don't speak Twin. You'll have to tell me your names in English for me to understand."_

_Sister is suddenly there, hovering over the woman with a worried expression. "These young men are Sora and Roxas," she tells her. "Please forgive their rudeness. They aren't very social." She takes a step away, expecting the woman to follow. "Now, if you'll follow me, the younger children are over here."_

_"No, that's all right," the woman replies, lifting a hand. "I'm fine where I am."_

_"But you said you were looking for an infant."_

_"I know. I've changed my mind."_

_"But -"_

_The man speaks for the first time. "She said she's fine."_

_Sister stares at him, shocked by his blunt tone. He looks at his wife for a moment, then returns his gaze to Sister. And smirks._

_The blasphemy!_

_They can't help but smile a little._

_"Well, Sora and Roxas," the woman is saying, "my name is Aerith Strife, and this is my husband Cloud. It's very nice to meet you." She smiles some more. "What are you reading?"_

_Roxas feels his brother's hand tighten around his own. Sora is weakening. He rolls his eyes but gives a squeeze in return, granting his permission. Ever so slightly, Sora tilts his comic book towards the woman so she can see._

_"Spiderman, huh?" Her green eyes try to catch his blue, but he shies away. "Are you Sora or Roxas?" she asks._

_His lips barely move as he answers, "Sora, ma'am."_

_"What is Roxas reading?"_

_"X-men."_

_"Do you two like to read?"_

_"Yes, ma'am."_

_"Me, too. I also like to garden. Do you like being outside?"_

_"Yes, ma'am."_

_"How about Roxas? Does he like being outside, too?"_

_"Yes, ma'am."_

_Unexpectedly, she laughs, covering her mouth with a soft-looking hand. "Cloud," she calls, "they remind me of you so much!"_

_He sighs and asks even though he already knows the answer, "Why is that, Aer?"_

_"Because I can't get more than two words out of them at a time." She sends him a smile from behind her hand, her eyes twinkling. He gives her a small indulgent smile in return._

_"Mrs. Strife," Sister interrupts. She is wearing her Stern Face. When Sora sees it, he lowers his eyes, and Roxas gives his hand a comforting squeeze. They know what is coming. "While I am always thrilled to see any of our children adopted into a caring home, I'm afraid I cannot recommend either of these two. There are issues with their social development, as you have seen, and I am afraid they are both prone to violence."_

_"Violence?" the man echoes. He snorts softly in disbelief. "Pardon me, Sister, but they don't look it."_

_They hang their heads and try to hide from the young woman's gaze. Sister has neglected to mention that they are only violent when someone tries to separate them. However, they will not bring it up themselves. Even with an explanation, they know they have no chance to be picked._

_"Appearances regardless, Mr. Strife, they are both very unstable. Based on your preliminary interviews, I can confidently state that neither of these boys would be a good fit for you and your wife."_

_The young woman has given up trying to catch their eyes, and she sits back on her heels with her head tipped to one side. "Well, that's good," she replies to Sister's remarks. "I'm not interested in either of them."_

_Sora and Roxas wilt into each other. They knew it, and yet they are still disappointed. She seemed so nice …_

_"I want them both."_

_Their heads shoot up in surprise. She is smiling at them with a fondness they have never before seen outside of their dreams._

_"Aerith," the man says, "are you sure?"_

_"Yes," she replies, catching his blue eyes with her own. "I am."_

_He smiles at her. "Then I'll get started on the paperwork." He begins to walk away, stopping only to call to Sister when she doesn't immediately follow him. Sister looks as if she is going to protest further, but the man's hard gaze convinces her to keep her peace. She walks away with brisk steps, leading the man out of the room and to her office._

_Sora and Roxas are too stunned to watch them go. Their hearts are beating like mad, and for the longest moment neither can speak. Finally, Roxas manages to whisper, "Really? Both of us?"_

_The young woman smiles at him and gently runs a hand through his hair. "Of course," she replies. "You're brothers. You belong together."_

_Sora starts to cry. Roxas nudges him with his shoulder in reprimand, but he can only shake his head and mumble apologies. "I can't believe it," he chokes out. "We're getting adopted. Both of us. Together."_

_Aerith gathers him into her arms and guides his head to one of her shoulders. When he is settled against her, she pulls Roxas to her other side and holds them both. She says nothing, only soothes Sora until his tears stop and then continues to hold and touch them lovingly until Cloud returns to take them home._

xXx

Sora lay on one side of the hotel bed, body still, breathing quiet. Roxas lay on the other. They could just barely make out each other's eyes in the darkness, one set of blue seeking out the other to speak in that language that only they could understand. In unison, their hands crept into the open space between them, and their fingers interlaced.

Their father was crying.

If Aerith had been an endless source of comfort and gentleness for the twins, Cloud had been their unyielding strength. He had been the one to push them, daring them to face their fears and get over them. He had controlled their discipline, listening to grievances and doling out punishments; they had quickly learned to fear the words, "Wait until your father gets home." He was hard but fair, and he wouldn't take the slightest bit of shit from either of them.

Before that night at their mother's viewing, they had never seen him cry. This was nothing like that had been.

Sora's eyes began to shimmer with the beginnings of tears. Roxas tightened their grip to comfort him, ignoring the wetness in his own eyes. It was such a terrible sound. A gasping, choking kind of noise that ripped into their ears like blades. They could tell he was trying to keep quiet - the throatiness of his sobs was muffled by a soft thickness, probably his own flesh - but he could not gain enough control over himself to stop. It went on and on - the shaking, the soft keening, the struggling for breath - and all Sora and Roxas could do was lie there and cry with him.

The man at the airport. He had caused this. Leon, Squall, whichever. Their father's ex-boyfriend.

They were both very good at lip-reading.

They understood, however, that while the stranger had caused their father's breakdown, _Cloud_ had caused the original problem. The other man's face had held nothing but anger and pain. Their father's had also held guilt and regret. And these tears were a punishment. A penance.

It seemed that some of their questions had been answered.

When Sora and Roxas had left the orphanage and moved into Cloud's and Aerith's home, they felt as if they had entered a storybook fantasy come true. They quickly realized that that was exactly what it was: a fantasy. Cloud and Aerith were in love, just not with each other. They were kind to each other and caring, but they never kissed, never cuddled or caressed. And they weren't sleeping with each other. The twins may have been at the age where the thought of their parents having sex made them gag, but even they could tell the difference between a couple who were having it and a couple who weren't. Cloud and Aerith weren't.

But both were quite obviously in love. The boys would often find their mother crying quietly to herself, kneeling in her garden or standing at the sink washing dishes. And their father would every so often stand by the window and look out at the sky, a tired and sad expression on his face. When questioned, both would wave it away, saying it was nothing the boys need worry about. But if it was nothing, the twins reasoned, then it should have stopped. It never did.

They didn't know the name of their mother's love, and at this point they doubted they ever would. That night, however, they had found out the name and face of their father's love. And they had found out just how deeply and desperately that love ran.

Nothing explained that better than these terrible, heart-breaking tears.

After a seeming eternity, Cloud's wracking sobs began to ease. His breathing became quieter and more even. The creaking of the chair stopped as his body ceased to shake. His lungs periodically hitched in small hiccups, but those eventually stopped as well and silence spread throughout the room.

Sora, who had his back to his father, squeezed Roxas's hand once. The other boy nodded and slowly lifted his upper body to peer over his brother at the windows. A moment later, his hand pulled out of Sora's and he slipped out of bed. Sora turned over and sat up on his elbows as he watched his brother claim the blanket from the empty bed and drag it over to the still figure in one of the armchairs. Gently, so as not to wake the older man, Roxas draped the blanket around Cloud's body, tucked the edges in as far as he dared, and then returned to bed. Both boys stretched out again, their hands connected once more.

Before they closed their eyes and fell asleep themselves, they made a silent promise to each other to find out more about this Leon person and, if possible, bring him and their father back together again.

xXx

The next morning, while Cloud was in the shower, Sora and Roxas dug out his cell phone and stole Leon's number.

They spent the entire morning looking at houses with the realtor. As exciting as it was to examine rooms and backyards and imagine themselves (and a dog) inhabiting them, Sora and Roxas still counted down the hours, then the minutes until lunchtime. Afterwards, Cloud would have a meeting with the owner of his new company, and they would have some free time to explore downtown by themselves.

"Now, make sure you're here by three o'clock. Don't lose track of time."

"Yes, Dad," they chorused, trying to keep the grins off of their faces and failing.

"If you need me for any reason, call me. I'll keep my cell on."

"Yes, Dad."

"Behave yourselves, and _be smart_. Don't think that just because you're fifteen you're suddenly invincible and immune to danger."

Sora rolled his eyes. " _Dad!_ Just go already. You're going to be late."

"Yeah," Roxas added, folding his arms and frowning. "Stop being such a worry-wart. We'll be fine."

Cloud stood there for a minute, arms limp at his sides, just staring at them. Then, before they could jump away or cry out in protest, he had grabbed them both and pulled them in for a hug. They squawked in surprise but stopped struggling when they felt his hands shaking on their backs.

"I love you two," he whispered.

"We love you, too, Dad," Roxas replied. He lifted his head and kissed his father's cheek.

Sora did the same to the other cheek. "Don't worry," he said. "We'll be right here at three. We promise."

Cloud nodded, released them, and, with one last lingering gaze on them both, turned and walked away. Sora and Roxas resumed their seats at the outdoor café where they had eaten lunch and watched him stride down the sidewalk. At the corner, he turned to look back. They each gave him a jaunty wave which he returned, and then he had disappeared from sight.

Sora whipped out his phone immediately and was pushing buttons before Roxas had finished turning around. Deeply excited, the brunet tapped his fingers against the plastic cup that held his drink while he listened to the ringing on the other end. Across from him, the blond poked at his French fries with a fork but did not put any of them in his mouth. His sharp eyes watched his brother intently.

Just as Sora thought he would be sent to a machine, someone picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is Leon there?" he asked, trying not to sound as manic as he felt.

"No," the male voice replied. "He's downstairs working. Can I take a message?"

Sora grimaced. He wanted to talk to Leon, not leave a message that the other could ignore. "Um, I'd rather not. Who's this?"

"This is Demyx."

"Demyx," Sora repeated. The name sounded familiar, and when he glanced at Roxas, the blond nodded. "Yuffie's mentioned him," he commented lowly.

Sora considered for half a second. Then, he took a deep breath and decided to just go for it. "Demyx, my name is Sora Strife. Cloud is my dad."

"Cloud as in the guy Leon left at the airport?"

"Yes, that's right. He left me and my brother there as well."

"Oh, well … um …" Demyx seemed to be unable to decide how to handle this. "What can I … do for you … Sora?"

"I want to talk to Leon," he informed him. "Face to face if possible. Roxas and I both do."

"Yeah, well, that might not be the best idea. Leon's not exactly happy about Cloud being here."

"I know. That's why I want to talk to him." He leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the table as he asked, "Demyx, do you know anything about the relationship between him and my dad? Do you know how long they were together? Why they broke up? Anything?"

"Sorry, Sora," the other replied, the hesitation evident in his voice. "I don't know anything. And I kind of don't want to know either. Leon's seriously pissed about all this."

"Okay, well …" He ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head a bit. "I still want to talk to him. Can you give me directions to where he works?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Um, no. I'm not."

"Shit. Look, Sora, I really think you should leave Leon alone right now. He's not himself right now. I mean, he fired Yuffie -"

"He _what?!_ " Sora nearly fell out of his chair. Across the table, Roxas snapped his head up in alarm. He opened his mouth, but Sora held up a finger to keep his questions at bay for the moment.

Demyx continued as if he hadn't heard the boy's outburst. "Okay, yeah, he rehired her this morning, but the point is that he actually fired her in the first place. He's been threatening to fire her for forever, but we never thought he'd actually do it, you know? It was kind of like a running joke. 'Watch out, Yuffie, or I'll fire you.' 'Ha, ha, sure you will, Leon.' That kind of thing."

"Demyx," Sora interrupted, gesturing with his hand to tell Roxas that everything was okay, "please. Just tell me where you guys work. If you don't, I can always call up Yuffie, but we only have until three so the faster we can get there, the better."

The other end of the line fell silent for several seconds. Then, Demyx huffed out a breath and said, "Okay, okay. You want Lionhearted Books. We're on State Street right across from The Gingerbread House. But you didn't get directions from me! In fact, you don't know me at all and I don't know you. I like this job, okay? And I really need to keep it."

"Okay," Sora smiled. He gave Roxas a thumbs-up. "I've never heard of you before in my life."

"Good. Great. That's that then."

"Yeah. Thanks, Demyx."

"No problem, kid. And good luck. You are so going to need it."

Grinning, Sora closed his phone and stood from his chair. Roxas rose as well, gathering up their trash to be taken to the wastebasket. With one final connection of their eyes and a decisive nod, the twins began their short walk to State Street, Lionhearted Books, and the man from their father's past.


	5. Leon

_They sit together in his apartment, each doing his own homework. He sits on the couch, legs outstretched, textbook in his lap. Cloud is on the floor, books strewn across his coffee table. They no longer have a class together, but they usually spend most of their time in one or the other's place. Since practically their first meeting they have been best friends._

_He wishes they were more than friends._

_His eyes stray yet again to that bowed blond head, to that half-hidden face with brow furrowed in concentration. How he would love to run his fingers through that hair, to plant kisses along that proud jawline, to capture those soft-looking lips with his own, slip his tongue between them, and explore. He is hesitant to make a move, however. He knows that Cloud is bi, but he does not know the other man's feelings towards him. He does not want to move too fast and ruin their friendship._

_A flash of blue startles him and he looks away before Cloud can catch him staring._

_"Hey," the blond says._

_"Yeah?" he answers nonchalantly._

_"What do you want to do Friday night?"_

_He shrugs. "Dunno. Want to go to a frat party?"_

_Cloud frowns. "Nah. Not really. Are there any dances being held this weekend?"_

_"None that I know of."_

_"Too bad. Well, want to catch a movie?"_

_He closes his book and turns to face the blond fully. The question is an innocent one, but he has realized that if he chooses his answer carefully, he might be able to find out Cloud's thoughts about him. He smirks and, in a light teasing tone that he can wave off as a joke if necessary, asks, "You paying?"_

_To his delight, Cloud smirks back. "I'm the pretty one," he replies. "Shouldn't you pay for me?" His smirk stretches into a smile, and he bats his eyelashes like a girl._

_His breath catches. Cloud is_ **_flirting_ ** _with him! They frequently joke around with each other, but never before has the blond openly flirted. He takes a breath and decides to risk everything. "I only pay for someone else if he's my boyfriend," he states. "You interested in that position?"_

_He expects Cloud to laugh and end the game, shutting him into the role of best friend forever, but instead Cloud tips his head to the side and taps his lips with a finger. The sight makes him want to leap across the table and tackle the blond to the floor. "Hmm," Cloud hums, "I'm not sure. I'm rather picky about my boyfriends. They have to be killer kissers."_

_He needs no further invitation. Dropping the book, he stands, crosses to Cloud, pulls the blond to his feet, and devours him._

_A full five minutes later, when they are both panting and flushed, he finds just enough breath to ask, "So, do I pass?"_

_Cloud laughs and slings his arms about his shoulders. "Oh_ **_hell_ ** _yes," he replies before sealing them together once more._

xXx

Head throbbing from too much thinking and too little sleep, Leon stumbled down the stairs to the first floor. He had really wanted to stay in bed all day and possibly the next, but he was too sensible to allow his business to suffer because of personal problems. He also didn't want to disappoint his customers. On Saturday mornings, his store hosted a kids' workshop with puppets and crafts. The kids loved it as did their frazzled mothers. If he didn't open the store as usual, he just might have a minor riot on his hands.

In desperate need of caffeine, he took a moment to start two of the store's three coffee pots before crossing the room to the front door. A familiar figure already stood outside, grinning in at him from underneath the brim of his ever-present cowboy hat.

"Good morning, Sunshine," the man greeted when Leon had unlocked and opened the door for him. "Don't you look the picture of cheerfulness this morning."

"Fuck you, Irvine," Leon returned without much power to his words. He was just too damn tired this morning to put any effort into it.

"Sorry, man, can't," Irvine replied, following the other man into the store. "Married now, you know. That whole monogamy thing."

"Yeah, I know." Leon wandered back towards the counter. The coffee was starting to drip, and the heavenly aroma was beckoning to him, drawing him into its embrace. He'd probably have to drink a pot all by himself this morning to get his brain functioning properly.

The other man had followed him, and he leaned against the counter as he asked, "Where's Demyx this morning?"

"He had a gig last night," Leon answered, rooting around underneath the cash register for his personal mug. "I let him sleep in."

Irvine hummed in comprehension, letting his eyes roam over his friend's appearance. "Should have slept in yourself," he commented eventually. "You look like shit, Leonhart."

"Gee thanks. I never would have known that if you hadn't told me."

"Glad to be of service."

Leon snorted and poured himself a generous cup of coffee. Normally, he would take it with a bit of cream, but this morning he didn't bother. He simply threw his head back and drank as much as he could in one gulp, promptly burning all the sensation out of his tongue. The warmth spread through him immediately, trickling through his chest and down his arms to tingle in the tips of his fingers. Irvine watched him with a raised eyebrow of amusement but wisely held his tongue.

"Where's Zell?" Leon croaked once his mouth had cooled enough to speak. His free hand was already reaching for the carafe to top off his mug.

"No idea," Irvine answered him. "He'll be here on time, though. I'm sure of it. Oh, hey! Check this out!" He bent briefly and hauled the bag he had brought with him onto the counter. Leon usually provided the puppets and raw materials for the crafts, but occasionally Irvine and Zell, who ran the activities, would bring something of their own. Expecting something along these lines, Leon sipped at his coffee and watched the other man struggle with the items in the bag which had apparently gotten tangled in something.

"Ha!" Irvine cried as he pulled his prize free. "Here's one. Selph got it off the internet, decided it was cute, and made me bring it. What do you think?"

Leon stared at the plushie for a minute before raising his eyes to his grinning friend and stating, "It's a cactus."

"It's a cact _uar_ ," Irvine corrected. He bounced the little green stuffed animal up and down on the counter. "Thought we could put it in the show somehow. She got another one, too." He dropped the first toy and dove back into the bag. Leon lifted it up to get a better look at it. For some reason, the manufacturers had made it in such a way that it looked like a swastika with a head. "Got it!" Leon looked up to find himself staring at a white doll that looked like nothing he had ever seen.

"It's a couple of marshmallows with a loofah on top."

"It's a moogle," Irvine said, although Leon's description made him smirk.

Leon sighed and passed back the cactuar. "Your wife is insane," he informed the other man as both plushies disappeared back into the bag. "I should know. I'm the one who introduced the two of you."

Irvine laughed and made to comment but stopped when the door opened with a jangling of bells. A moment later, a drooping, disheveled figure staggered and lurched its way up to them. "Morning," it mumbled before dropping its blond head on the counter.

"What the hell happened to you?" Irvine cried as Leon quickly poured out a second cup of coffee.

Zell, for that's who it was, lifted his head and tried to focus bleary eyes on the man next to him. "I only have one thing to say," he slurred out. "Pregnant women are the _best_." His head crashed back down, and Leon thought he heard him mutter something along the lines of "Wake me up in four hours."

Irvine burst out laughing and clapped Zell on the shoulders. "So that's what happened, huh? Wife kept you up all night." He shared a smirk with Leon before continuing, "Yeah, I remember when Selphie was in her last trimester. So sexy-looking and so horny. It was awesome. I tell ya, Commander, you're missing out. You really should drop the dicks and pick up a chick."

Leon rolled his eyes at Irvine's unnecessary rhyming and bonked Zell on the head gently with the styrofoam cup. "Here, stud," he coaxed. "Have some of this."

Zell cracked open one eye and, after spotting the coffee, shuffled himself into a more upright position. "Thanks, boss," he croaked, taking the cup into his hands.

"You're welcome," Leon replied, giving his old friend one of his rare smiles. Being with these two always calmed him down and made him feel better. He had known Zell and Irvine's wife Selphie since high school, and their friendships were just as strong now as they had been in those happier days. Irvine had been a more recent acquaintance, but the cheerful, flirtatious man had fallen into their circle easily and been swept away by the little brunette in their midst. Now both men had families - Irvine with a two-year-old daughter and Zell with a baby due in only a couple of months - but even with their busier schedules and changed priorities, they always had time for Leon, the eternal bachelor. Neither of them ever called him by name anymore, however; they had both known him as Squall, and even though they respected his right to hide from his past, neither especially agreed with it.

"So," Irvine was saying as Zell nursed his coffee, "we know why Dincht looks like a zombie. Too much sex." Grinning, he removed the hat and placed it on Zell's head instead before turning his attention to Leon. "What about you, Leonhart? What's your excuse for looking like death warmed over?"

Leon hesitated, but only briefly. The two men were his best friends, and they already knew all his secrets. Placing his mug gently on the counter, he said in a low, even voice, "Cloud is in town."

Zell's head shot up, the blond suddenly more awake than he had been a moment before. "Seriously?" he breathed. "Have you talked to him?"

"No."

"Are you going to?"

"I don't plan to."

A frown had settled over Irvine's face, and it deepened at this last statement. When he spoke, his voice had its normal teasing tone, but it had a new serious undertone as well. "If you're not going to talk to him, maybe I will."

Leon snapped his gray eyes to his friend. As they stared each other down, he said quietly, "I'd rather if you didn't."

"No? But I'd really like to thank him at the very least." A smirk took over his lips as he said, "After all, if he hadn't dumped you, I'd never have had the chance to screw your delectable little ass."

Coffee sprayed all over the counter as Zell performed a most impressive spit take. Leon rolled his eyes and fetched a rag from near the carafes. "Nice one, Kinneas," he bit, throwing the towel at the long-haired brunet. "Clean it up."

Irvine just smirked even more and did as bidden while Zell looked back and forth between them in shock. "Are you kidding?" he demanded. "You two used to … you know … date?"

"Aw, Zell, you're so cute!" He attempted to pinch the blond's cheeks and got his forearms punched for his trouble. Laughing, he went back to mopping up the coffee and answered, "I didn't date him; I fucked him. That's how we met. Didn't you know?" When Zell shook his head fiercely, Irvine explained, "I was in this bar, minding my own business, when this gorgeous guy walks in, all depressed and moody. I buy him a drink, he basically throws himself at me, we go back to my place and screw like bunnies. The next morning, I find out he's actually a pretty interesting person, and so begins our great friendship." He winked at Leon who rolled his eyes a second time. "So really, I have this Cloud guy to thank not only for some hot sex but for my marriage, too."

"Holy shit," Zell commented. "Does Selphie know? About you two?"

"Of course she does!" Irvine replied, acting shocked. "Do you really think I'd keep secrets from my sweet heart's desire, the only love of my life?"

"Knowing you, probably," Leon remarked dryly. "Guess it's good that I told her before I introduced you." Ignoring Irvine's snort of indignation and Zell's muffled chuckles, he pushed on. "Enough. The kids will start showing up in about half an hour. Shouldn't you two be getting set up instead of standing here gossiping like a couple of old women?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're going." Irvine tossed the coffee-soaked rag at Leon, aiming for his face, but Leon snagged it out of the air before it could hit him.

"Thanks for the coffee, man," Zell said, placing his empty cup on the counter. "I really needed it this morning."

"No problem," Leon answered, clearing it away and replacing the rag at the same time. "Glad to help."

Zell nodded and smiled, but then his eyes wandered, following Irvine's back as the other man wandered away towards the kids' corner. "I still can't believe you slept with Kinneas," he murmured, mostly to himself.

"Temporary insanity," Leon assured him with a smirk. "What does that say about Selph, though? She's still sleeping with him."

The blond threw him a monster grin. "Yeah," he commented, "but Selph is crazy."

"True. You should see the stuffed animals she made him bring."

"Oh God, no."

"Hey Dincht!" Irvine yelled from the other side of the store. "Are you going to help me over here or what?"

"Coming!"

Zell scurried away, throwing a wave over his shoulder at Leon before he disappeared. Feeling far more awake and much better mentally, Leon retrieved his mug and paused for a moment before beginning to work. With his forearms on the counter and his head bowed, he allowed himself a moment of peace to be thankful for the friends who had stayed with him through everything.

"It's a powdered jelly donut."

"It's a _moogle_!"

"Dude, what is your wife smoking?"

_Even if they are insane_ , Leon thought to himself with a quiet smirk.

xXx

Later that morning, as the activities in the children's corner were winding down, Leon stood at the counter, sorting through publisher invoices and thinking of Yuffie. It was almost lunchtime, and her usual shift started just before then. Today, however, he wouldn't have that extra set of hands to take over so that he could get a bite, to ease the workload in the afternoon, or to make closing that much faster. Today, Yuffie wouldn't come because he had been an ass and fired her out of a childish need for revenge.

Sighing, Leon laid down the sheets in his hands. Where was she right now? He truly regretted his actions from the previous night. Perhaps later in the day he would call her and apologize. Even offer her her job back if she'd take it. Hopefully she would understand that he had been in shock and had needed to lash out at someone and would forgive him. If not, he'd have to find another worker soon. He and Demyx alone weren't enough to run the store, especially not if Demyx's music career continued to pick up as it had been doing the past few months.

He had always known he was a bastard, but last night, he had truly outdone himself.

Lost in his thoughts as he was, Leon missed the ringing of the bell which announced a new customer, so when someone cleared his throat nearby, he couldn't stop his instinctual start of surprise. His gaze lifted to find piercing green eyes inspecting him calmly from a long, narrow face.

"Professor Vexen," Leon greeted with a minute inclination of his head.

"Mr. Leonhart," the university instructor returned in his dry voice. "I am here for my special order."

"Of course." Leon began to move away to fetch the requested book from the back room, but before he got far, Vexen spoke again.

"I would also like to introduce my new assistant. He will be picking up any future orders as well as any other materials I may require." The professor gestured vaguely to his right.

Leon shifted his gaze in that direction and noticed a second person standing several feet behind Vexen, looking about the store with an air of detached interest. His short hair was such a dark shade of black that it seemed to shine a faint blue, and his bangs completely covered one eye, rather like some of the angsty poets Leon had encountered. He turned a surprisingly young face to Leon - Vexen usually employed graduate students, but this young man looked fresh out of high school.

"Zexion," Vexen was saying, "This is Mr. Leonhart, owner of this store. Whenever possible, you will want to deal with him. There is another young man who works here by the name of Demyx. You'll recognize him by the vacuous grin and ridiculous hairstyle. He is acceptable if there is no other alternative. However, do not approach the dark-haired female under any circumstances. Do you understand?"

Zexion nodded so slightly that it was barely visible. "Yes, sir."

"Aw, Yuffie's not so bad," a new voice drawled from near the door. "Not nearly as bad as me."

The three at the counter turned to see a well-dressed young man stride towards them, the door shutting behind him with a clatter of bells. He smirked at Leon as he approached and flipped his platinum blond hair over one shoulder. "Hey, my dear cousin," he said sweetly. "What's this I hear about a vacancy in your employment roster?"

"Riku," Leon replied with a lifted eyebrow of skepticism. "Don't tell me you're interested in it?"

"Nah," Riku answered with a wave of his hand. He rested his elbows on the counter and leaned forward with his head in his hands. "You don't want me to work for you. Believe me." Sharp green eyes scanned the area behind the counter. "Where's Dem today?"

"Upstairs making the snacks for the kids," Leon answered. "He got a late start this morning because of his performance last night."

"Oh that's right," Riku groaned. "I forgot. I was going to go see him."

Leon gave his sixteen-year-old cousin a withering stare. " _You_ were going to go watch Demyx perform at The Royal Flush. Right."

The boy flashed him his trademarked smile: all teeth, no sincerity. "I could have gotten in." When Leon only snorted in response, Riku dismissed him with a flick of the wrist and turned to the other two instead. "Professor Vexen," he greeted with a more humble smile. "So nice to see you again."

Ever since Riku's appearance, the professor had been waiting anxiously to be addressed. His normally cool expression had brightened dramatically, and he was shifting on the balls of his feet, practically jumping from one foot to the other in his excitement. Standing next to him, Zexion was staring openly at his mentor, clearly not believing that this was the same man he knew.

"Young master Riku!" he cried happily. "I am most pleased to see you as well. How is your family?"

"We are all quite well," Riku replied politely, making Leon roll his eyes. "The other day, my grandfather mentioned reading an article of yours."

"Really?" Vexen asked, the pitch of his voice rising several degrees. Zexion stared even harder.

"Yes, really," Riku replied. "He said it was very interesting."

Vexen all but clasped his hands in front of him in utter bliss. Leon could almost see the stars in the older man's eyes. It made him sick to his stomach - not so much because of the hero worship Vexen practiced for Riku's grandfather, but because of the way his young cousin egged the other man on and played with him like he was some sort of toy. All four of Leon's cousins were like that to some degree, but Riku, the youngest, was undoubtedly the worst.

Zexion had recovered enough to clear his throat, and now Vexen was introducing the blond boy with near-reverence. "Zexion, this young man is Mr. Riku Gast. His grandfather is the famous geneticist in charge of the Jenova project."

"Ahh," Zexion said quietly, realization dawning. "I see. Very nice to meet you."

Riku's eyes had quickly flicked over the other young man, carefully analyzing him and his potential for amusement. Apparently finding Zexion lacking, Riku gave him a quick, "Likewise," before returning all his attention to the professor. With his polite, respectful smile firmly plastered in place, he began a conversation with the man about his research, making certain to drop comments about his grandfather as often as possible. Vexen snapped up all the offered bait with relish, excitedly jabbering about his projects and practically wriggling like a puppy every time Riku mentioned Gast's name.

Unable to take any more, Leon escaped to the back room to pick up Vexen's specially ordered book. Before he left, he noticed that Zexion had also quietly disappeared, apparently as disgusted with the situation as he was.

When Leon returned, he was shocked to find that Vexen and Riku had left. For a moment, he just stood there, book in hand, and wondered whether he should put it back or keep it up front. Then, Zexion appeared from one of the aisles, already looking at him as if he had been watching him through the shelves of books.

"The professor has decided to treat Mr. Gast to an early lunch," he said in his soft voice. "I am to take the book."

"Ah, I see." Leon waited for Zexion to approach him, but after a minute where they simply stared at each other, he sighed and walked around the counter instead. He offered the book to the young man who took it with a small inclination of his head, turned, and walked away without another word.

"Wow, what a weirdo."

Leon's eyes widened at the familiar voice. Turning around quickly, he discovered that someone had not only entered the store without his noticing but had also snuck up behind him and jumped up onto the counter. A very familiar someone. She was swinging her legs back and forth, and her heels banged against the front glass as she watched Zexion retreat with a frown on her face.

"Yuffie?"

At his incredulous cry, she turned her head and grinned at him. "Hiya!" She gracefully leapt off of the counter and stood before him with legs spread. "Ahem," she coughed, her hand covering her mouth. Then, she planted her fists on her hips, threw her head back proudly, and stated, "I hear you have a position open here in this fine establishment, and I'm interested in applying for it." She leaned forward a bit and winked. "Whaddya say?"

An enormous weight seemed to lift from Leon's shoulder's at the sight of her smile. His own lips curled upwards as his gaze and voice softened. "You're hired," he told her. "Get upstairs and help Demyx with the snacks for the kids."

"You got it!" she chirped and made to dash away, but Leon's hand shot out and grabbed her before she could escape. When she looked at him questioningly, he just looked back, knowing what he wanted but unable to voice it. It just wasn't something he ever did. He had no idea how to ask for it.

Thankfully, Yuffie must have read his desire in his half-pleading eyes for she walked up to him and threw her arms around his neck. It took him a moment to gather the courage to wrap his own arms around her waist, but she waited patiently for him to find it. When he had, she tightened her grip a little and whispered, "You're a first-class dick, but I forgive you."

Leon bit his lip and squeezed her tightly for a second before letting her go again. "Thank you," he murmured before she had pulled away entirely.

"Sure thing," she returned. "Now I gotta go. The cookies are a-callin'." Her eyes lit up and she rubbed her hands together as she skipped off to the stairs. "Oooo, won't Demy be surprised to see me!" she sang before disappearing.

Leon watched her go with a smile. That problem, at least, had been resolved favorably. The other one, the much larger one, he would deal with on his own time, in private. At least while he worked it was easier to forget the pain. This morning in particular had been extremely busy. All he'd need was Axel to show up looking for Demyx, and he'd have had every nutjob he knew drop in on him.

Shaking his head in resignation, Leon returned to his place behind the counter and prayed to whoever would listen for a boring afternoon.


	6. Riku

_His lip is bleeding, and his ribs hurt so badly that he's sure one or more of them have cracked. At least he can still see out of both eyes which is more than can be said for Kadaj. The bruises on his brother's face have swelled so badly that one eye is already sealed shut and the other does not look too far behind. The elder's nose is bleeding a little as well, dropping small circles of red blood onto his pale hand as it rests on his knee. In spite of their pain, both boys sit absolutely still, heads bowed as they kneel on the ground before their father, waiting for their sentence._

_Sephiroth towers over his sons, letting his silent presence fill them with more fear than any words could. Behind the tall man, Loz and Yazoo stand together, too scared to go to their little brothers' defense. This is not the first time this scene has played out, and it will not be the last. After all, this is all he knows. Loz sometimes mentions a happier time, a better time, but that was before he was born. Before their mother died._

_"What happened this time?" Sephiroth finally asks, his voice even and clipped._

_Kadaj lifts his head, always the one to speak first. "They said Riku was a murderer!" he cries in his young voice, made higher by fury. "They said he killed Mom!"_

_Their father stares at them without emotion. "What of it?" he responds. "He did kill her." Kadaj wilts before him, but he continues, "However, while it is most certainly his fault that she died, he was only a baby and cannot be held responsible. I do not blame Riku or hold a grudge against him in any way. You two know this and yet you still allowed yourselves to be goaded into a fight. I am very disappointed."_

_He swallows and tries to keep the tears in his eyes from escaping. At times like this, he truly hates his father. He understands the man's reasoning and his unwillingness to coddle his sons with sweet words and white lies, but he hates the man's habit of being so brutally blunt. After all, chronologically he is still a child. Emotionally, however, he has not been a child for a very long time._

_His tongue darts out to lick blood from his lips before stating, "They also said that Kadaj and I look like girls."_

_Sephiroth's lip twitches upwards. "And you do," he replies with a hint of amusement. "As do Yazoo and I. In fact, only Loz it seems has been lucky enough not to inherit your grandmother's famous beauty. You'll be grateful for it some day, but as for now …" He frowns a bit in thought, his eyes growing distant. "I suppose I should teach you how to throw punches without receiving any in return."_

_He lifts his head in surprise and confusion and gazes up at his father. Teach them how to fight? Aren't they supposed to be learning how to be mature enough to avoid violence? But as a gleam enters those hypnotic green eyes and a smile spreads over that handsome, terrible face, he remembers just who he is and who his family members are. "Normal" is not a word that applies to any of them._

_Sighing, he hangs his head again and closes his tired, aching eyes._

xXx

Riku pushed into The Gingerbread House, quietly humming a song that had been stuck in his head since before breakfast. He truly loved Saturdays. No school, no forced social interaction with his family, just complete freedom. Saturday was the only day that he could come home late for dinner and not immediately be grounded for a month. The other six days of the week, he had a strict schedule to follow and a multitude of masks to wear in order to get through it. Saturday was his and his alone. It was the only reason why he and the rest of the Gast boys had not gone insane years ago.

Feeling relaxed and content, Riku strolled through the store, examining the candy with a critical eye. He briefly considered buying one of his favorite lollipops - the kind that twirled upwards to look like a multi-colored unicorn's horn - but decided against it. He planned to go over to Lionhearted Books in a few minutes anyway. If he timed his visit right at the end of the children's workshop, he could usually sneak a few of Demyx's homemade treats without anyone saying anything. It was an indulgence he only allowed himself once a month, if that, since if he went more frequently, his cousin would be sure to notice and start denying him the free snacks.

"Good morning, Riku."

The addressed boy blinked and turned towards the owner of the voice who had called to him in a much more sultry manner than necessary. The girl behind the counter was smiling at him prettily. In an instant, his masks had slipped into place with practiced ease.

"Good morning," he returned with a flirtatious smile that made her giggle. "How are you this morning?"

"Fine," she answered, the blush on her face rising higher the longer he smiled at her. "Are you looking for anything in particular today?"

He shook his head as he crossed the room towards her. "No, just looking. Unless …" He leaned his upper body onto the counter and closed the distance between them dramatically. "… there's something you'd … _recommend_."

The girl giggled so badly that it took her half a minute to find enough control to speak. "Um … we have a new flavor of fudge available for sampling. Would you like to try some?"

"Is it good?"

"Oh yes!"

"Then I'd love some."

Her shaking hands dove beneath the counter for a moment and then reappeared bearing a tray of small cubes of fudge. Riku carefully selected one and, with exaggerated delicacy, closed his eyes and placed it on his tongue. "Mmmm …" he hummed in a low voice, ignoring the little squeak that escaped the female before him. To tell the truth, the fudge was pretty good, just not good enough to produce the sinful expression of ecstasy that Riku slipped onto his face for the benefit of the trembling shopgirl. When he had swallowed the bit of chocolate and opened his eyes, he found her staring at him slack-jawed.

"… um … R-Riku … ?"

He reached out and took one of her hands, successfully not laughing when she squeaked again at the contact. Smiling invitingly, he bowed low over her hand, touched her knuckles to his lips, and looked up at her through his bangs. "Yes?" he encouraged.

"Uh … would you … I mean … um … if you wanted to, I could … um …"

He waited patiently for her to get the words out, but before she could, a heavy hand crashed onto his shoulder, making him jump.

"Good grief, Ri," someone said from behind him. "Don't tell me you're at it again?"

Instantly, Riku dropped the girl's hand and turned around with a bright smile on his face. "Yuffie!" he cried happily.

The brunette grinned back at him and pointed her thumb to her chest. "That's right. It's me! Long time no see, squirt."

Riku laughed, not at all bothered by the degrading nickname. Behind him, the girl he had just been wooing cleared her throat a little, but he ignored her. Girls like her were a dime a dozen. Yuffie was one of a kind. And he didn't have to wear any of his masks for her. She didn't judge him and had absolutely no interest in him romantically. In fact, she'd probably beat him up if he tried anything on her, to say nothing of her older, very scary boyfriend.

"How have you been? You look great."

"Thanks. I've been fine. You?"

"Pretty good. I was just about to come over and see you guys actually."

Surprisingly, Yuffie frowned at that. "Yeah, well," she replied, scuffing one foot against the floor, "I don't work there anymore."

"What?" he asked. "Why?"

"Your stupid cousin fired me last night."

"Leon did? What the hell?"

"Yeah." She crossed her arms over her chest and turned a little so that she could look out the store windows to the bookstore across the street. "I was really pissed and came over here to get some fuel before going over and kicking his scrawny ass, but …" She trailed off with a shake of her head.

"But?" Riku prompted, tilting his head a bit to see her face better.

Yuffie released a heavy sigh and turned back to him. "But I've been watching him through the windows for about half an hour now, and he looks so damn depressed. I just can't find it in me to beat him up anymore." She tipped her dark head to one side and mused, "Wonder if he'd give me my job back if I asked."

The shopgirl cleared her throat a little more loudly, and when Riku finally looked at her, she stared back with cold, business-like eyes. "Was there anything else you wanted?" she asked dully.

"Nope, not for me," Riku replied with a small formal smile. "Yuff? You getting anything."

"Nah," the older girl replied. "I bought some stuff earlier, but I ate it already."

The shopgirl nodded briskly, turned on her heel, and stalked off to the back room of the store. Riku shrugged one shoulder and turned back to Yuffie to find her smirking at him.

"You gotta stop doing that, Ri," she warned. "Your reputation is bad enough without you seducing random chicks in stores."

Riku snorted. Snagging another piece of sample fudge, he said airily, "Who gives a fuck about my reputation? I sure don't."

Yuffie sighed at him. "Mark my words, you'll regret it someday. Eventually, someone worthwhile is going to come along, you'll fall in love just like the rest of us slobs, and then your playboy attitude is going to bite you on the ass."

"Yeah right," he smirked. Assuming a theatrical air, he threw one hand to the heavens and proclaimed, "I can see it now! The maiden enters, more beautiful and pure than any other in the entire world, and I am wholly and utterly swept away. Lights sparkle about her face, choirs of angels sing in harmony, and my entire world changes in an instant. It's love at first fucking sight!" Dropping his hand to his side again, he raised his eyebrows at Yuffie in pure incredulity. "Sound about right?" he mocked.

But Yuffie refused to back down. "Laugh if you want," she intoned with a seriousness that surprised him, "but if your hard-assed cousin can fall ga-ga in love with someone, then so can you."

Riku blinked a few times in incomprehension, but when Yuffie jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the shop across the street, realization hit him like a freight train. " _Leon?_ Are you fucking with me? Leon's in love with someone?"

"Yup," she answered, grinning at his shock. "It's why he fired me. I think the guy broke his heart or something, and I ended up reintroducing them." She sighed to herself and added with a little roll of her eyes, "Which I wouldn't have done if either of them had told me _anything_ about their past relationships, but of course getting information out of them is like trying to uproot a sequoia with your bare hands." She reached around Riku to grab a piece of fudge for herself before turning and beginning to walk towards the front of the store. "Well, anyway, I'm gonna go over now and see if …" She stopped with one hand on the door, her voice trailing away. Then, she commented quite loudly, "Crap."

"What is it?" Riku asked, coming level with her. He looked through the glass at the bookstore but didn't see anything strange or disturbing.

"That creepy professor guy just went into the store," Yuffie groaned. "He hates me, and I have to say the feeling is mutual. Now I gotta wait until he leaves before I go over."

"Professor Vexen?" Riku asked, an evil smile creeping into his face.

"Yeah."

Gently, Riku took Yuffie's hand and removed it from the door. Bringing it to his lips, he kissed it once before saying, "Do not fret, my dear lady. I will happily charge into the breach for you and vanquish yon foul sorcerer!"

Yuffie grinned at him and shook her head. "You're a piece of work, Ri."

Returning her grin, Riku winked and pushed through the door to the street. As he crossed over to the bookstore, he couldn't help but start humming again. Today was turning out to be a lot of fun. First the pathetic shopgirl and now Vexen. If he played this right, he could probably get lunch out of the deal. He'd miss Demyx's snacks that way, but there was always next Saturday for those.

With that happy thought in mind, he pushed open the door to his cousin's shop and strode inside.

xXx

When Riku returned to the bookstore with a delicious and, more importantly, free lunch in his stomach, he found only Yuffie behind the counter. She grinned and waved at him as he entered with his usual flourish.

"Heya!"

"Hi," he grinned back, crossing the room to her. "You got your job back, I see."

"Yuppers," she chirped happily. "And I didn't even have to crack any skulls. Although," she added as an afterthought, "sometimes that can be fun, too."

Riku shook his head at her and inquired, "Where did my dear cousin disappear to?"

"Leon and the other guys went out for lunch together," she answered. "Why? Did you want him for anything in particular?"

"Nah," Riku said with a small shrug. "I just don't have any plans for the day, so I thought I'd hang out here for a while."

"Well, make yourself at home. You know where everything is."

"Yeah. Thanks, Yuffie."

He gave her a smile, one of his very rare, real ones, and wandered over to the magazine rack to browse. Noticing the new issue of _Game Informer_ , he picked it up and flipped through it for a few minutes, but he soon put it back again and picked up a different magazine. For about ten minutes, he did this, just browsing, not looking at or for anything in particular, and then, he found it. His fingers had been reaching for a science magazine when they brushed against something that fell to the ground. Sighing, Riku bent down to pick it up.

It was a photograph. Of Demyx. Confused, Riku gazed at it for a minute with one eyebrow raised. Then, he pivoted on his heel and walked back to Yuffie who was reading a novel at the counter.

"Where's Dem?"

Placing a finger on her page, she lifted her head and blinked at him before replying, "Upstairs."

"Mind if I go up to see him?"

"I don't, but it's not my apartment."

"I promise I won't touch anything. I just want to give him -" He broke off as the thundering sound of feet came crashing down the stairs. A moment later, the blond in question burst into the store from the back.

"Leon?" he called, not bothering to look at anyone as he raced towards the front door. "I'm gonna go pick up some milk, okay? I'll be back in a bit."

"Leon's not here, Demy," Yuffie called to him before he could vanish.

Demyx paused, his hand on the door, and turned back to them. "He's not?"

She shook her head. "Nope. He and Irvine and Zell went out to lunch. They should be back soon, though."

"Oh." Demyx considered this for a moment; then, he said briskly, "Well, I'm going out anyway. Tell him when he gets back."

"Wait, Demyx!" Riku called. "Before you go, I wanted to give this back to you." He held up the photograph for the other to see.

To the younger blond's extreme surprise, the elder instantly paled. "What is that?" he asked with a sudden fear in his voice.

"It's a picture of you," Riku answered. "Isn't it yours?"

Demyx dashed across the store and snatched the photograph from Riku's fingers. "Oh no," he murmured as his eyes took in the sight of himself. "No, no, no, no …"

"What's the matter, Demy?"

Demyx groaned and dropped his head onto the counter next to Yuffie so loudly that she jumped. "I'm being stalked," he explained, his voice muffled by his arms. He slapped the photograph onto the counter and pointed at it without lifting his head. "This picture was taken last night. I had just finished my set, and I was watching Axel. Someone snuck backstage, took a picture of me, and left another on my guitar before leaving." He shifted his eyes to Riku. "Where did you find this?"

"Over on the magazine rack."

"Oh _God_ ," he groaned again. "I always clean up the rack on Saturdays. Whoever this person is, they can get close to me without me knowing _and_ they know my schedule."

"Maybe it's Axel having fun with you," Yuffie suggested.

"He said Axel was onstage when this was taken," Riku argued, picking the picture up and examining it again. "Besides, it's pretty obvious whoever took this likes you, Dem. It's really a sexy photo if you look at it closely. Your expression is so relaxed, and the light is hitting you just perfectly to bring out the color of your eyes. And look," he turned the picture around to show the other two, "it also highlights the water on your lips to make them look fuller."

"Yeah, you're right," Yuffie said, plucking it from his hand. "It really is sexy." She smirked down at the blond who was still hiding his face in his arms and sang sweetly, "Demy's got a secret admirer."

"It's not funny!" he cried, finally standing up straight. "I'm being stalked! This person could be a psycho. I could be kidnapped or raped or …" He pressed his shaking fists against his temples briefly before exploding, "Forget the milk! I'm going back to my room, and I'm not coming out for the rest of the day. Tell Leon if he wants me to work, he can hire me a fucking bodyguard!" He dashed away, and a moment later, the thundering, crashing feet were back, this time going in the opposite direction.

"Yikes," Riku commented dryly once they had heard the slamming of a door upstairs. "Freak out much?"

"It's Demyx," Yuffie replied easily. "Whatcha gonna do?" She slipped the picture into her novel as a makeshift bookmark. Shrugging in response, Riku wandered off to find something else with which to entertain himself.

A short time later, the bells over the door announced the return of Leon, Irvine, and Zell. Riku put back the mystery novel he had been scanning to watch them come in. The two married men were laughing over something said before they arrived, and somehow Irvine's hat had ended up on Leon's head. The stoic man didn't look too happy about the addition to his outfit, although Riku thought it looked pretty good on him.

"Just let me get my bag, and we'll take off and leave you alone," Irvine said, reclaiming his hat to Leon's obvious relief.

"Where'd you put it?" Zell asked him.

"In the back."

"I'll get it," Riku offered, startling all three of them. Leon stared at him in questioning distrust, but Riku just smiled sweetly at him. He didn't have a real reason for offering to get it; he was just bored.

"Thanks, kid," Irvine smiled before Leon could say no. "I appreciate it."

"No problem," he replied over his shoulder as he turned and walked away.

"Touch nothing, Riku," Leon's voice tailed after him.

"But I _have_ to touch the bag," he whined viciously.

"You know what I mean!"

"Yes, dear cousin."

Grinning at the noise of frustration he had evoked from the older man, Riku slipped into the back room and looked around for Irvine's bag. He found it on a nearby chair. Before picking it up, he opened it for a peek and noticed the stuffed animals inside. Chuckling to himself, he pulled them out and inspected them for a minute before shoving them back into the bag and turning to leave the room.

Very faintly, he heard the noise of jingling bells.

"Excuse me, is Leon here?"

Riku paused mid-step. He didn't know that voice, but it sounded young, his age even. He had thought he could recognize anyone from his school.

"Sora! Roxas!" Yuffie's voice, sounding excited and a little nervous. "What are you two doing here?"

"We came to see Leon." Another new voice, this one a little deeper. Intrigued, Riku quickly crossed the remaining distance to the door that led to the main area of the store.

And stopped in the threshold. Standing just inside the door, about to get squashed by a rapidly-approaching Yuffie, were two boys who did indeed look about his age. They also looked almost exactly like each other, although one was a blond and the other a brunet. They both hugged Yuffie back when she tackled them, but they kept their blue eyes fixed on Leon who was standing ramrod straight next to the counter.

"You guys don't want to see boring old Leon," Yuffie was saying, her tone now extremely nervous. "Why don't I take you across the street to the candy store? That'll be fun, right?" She grabbed their hands and pulled, but they stood their ground.

"No," the blond said, quietly but firmly. "We want to talk to Leon."

"Yeah," the brunet added. "About Dad."

Yuffie froze, her frightened eyes shooting up to her boss. Leon had not moved; he continued to stare at the twin teenagers who had invaded his store.

After a moment, Zell cleared his throat a little and asked, "And you guys are … ?"

"Cloud's sons," Leon stated, his words dropping like stones into the silence.

For a long moment, no one moved or said anything. Then, Irvine began to laugh quietly to himself. "Well," he remarked airily, "that explains a lot." He took a step forward, inserting himself between Leon and the boys, and asked, "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Who are you?" the blond inquired suspiciously.

"I'm Irvine Kinneas," he replied. Tipping his head, he continued, "That's Zell Dincht. We're old friends of Leonhart's."

The twins turned their gazes to each other and appeared to confer for a moment. Then, they nodded and turned their attention back to Leon. "Okay," the brunet said. "That's fine. As long as Leon doesn't mind you here, we don't either." He paused for a moment to take a breath before baldly saying, "You're in love with Dad, aren't you, Leon?"

Irvine snorted loudly. To Zell, he commented, "Doesn't waste words, does he?" The blond man made a quiet noise of agreement and also stepped into the center so that the two together formed a kind of shield in front of Leon. Turning back to the boys, Irvine asked, "What makes you think that?"

The blond boy narrowed his eyes at the men's defense tactic, but the brunet pushed on bravely. "At the airport. We could tell. He wouldn't have been in that much pain if he didn't care for Dad anymore. That's also how we know that Dad loves him back."

Zell sighed and shook his head a little. "Your dad never loved Squall, kid."

"He did!" the brunet cried, but the blond cut him off with a firm, "He most certainly did, and he still does. We've known for years that Dad didn't love Mom. Not like a guy is supposed to love his wife. He loved her more like a sister. But it's always been painfully obvious to Sora and me that he was in love with someone."

"And after yesterday, Roxas and I have no doubt in our minds that that someone is you. When we got back to the hotel after dropping Yuffie off, he acted all normal checking us in and everything, but once he thought we were asleep, he collapsed into a chair and just cried for the longest time."

"And it wasn't like the way he cried for Mom either. For her, his tears were sad but calm. This was like someone was ripping his soul apart."

"Yeah, it was completely heartbreaking. Like nothing we'd ever heard before."

"Enough."

The single word spread through the room in an instant, seizing the flow of time and stilling it with its power. Everyone locked their eyes upon Leon, who had uttered it, and waited for him to speak again. For a long time, he just stood there, eyes unfocused and turned towards the floor. But then, finally, he moved, bringing his chin up to stare at the twins with a heavy frown.

"What do you want from me?" he demanded. "Why are you here?"

The boys paused, and the hands that hung between their bodies reached out to each other. As their fingers interlaced, Roxas swallowed and replied, "We want the two of you to get back together. We want you and our Dad to be happy."

Leon's eyes narrowed dangerously. "And you think it's that simple, do you? You think you can come here and tell me about one night of heartbroken tears, and I'll suddenly forgive and forget the past _six years_ of torment to rush back into his arms?"

"But," Sora protested, "you love him, and he loves you, and …"

"It's not that simple, kid," Irvine interjected kindly. "Life isn't as straightforward as that. There are other issues you have to address, the most important one in this case being trust. Your dad betrayed Squall. Terribly. That's not something you can forgive in an instant."

"Betrayed?" Roxas echoed. "What did he do?"

"Irvine …" Leon warned.

The ponytailed brunet tipped his head. "You don't know?"

"No," Sora replied, "we don't."

"Hmm. Wonder if I should enlighten you as to the true nature of your precious father."

"Irvine Kinneas, I swear to every God known to mankind, if you so much as open your mouth -"

"Your Dad got your Mom knocked up and dumped Squall to marry her."

Everyone stared open-mouthed at the short-haired blond who had spoken.

"Zell!" Leon near-screamed.

Zell shrugged and sent him a quick glance over his shoulder. "I'm sick of dancing around this," he stated. "You need to address it and get over it. Six years is long enough, Squall."

"My name is Leon."

"Exactly."

Sora and Roxas were staring at each other, once again holding a conversation with their eyes.

"Mom's miscarriages …" Roxas murmured. "It makes sense."

"Yeah," Sora agreed. "It answers a lot." He suddenly turned on Yuffie who still stood behind them and asked, "Do you have a piece of paper and a pen I could use?"

"Um, sure," Yuffie replied. While she hurried off to get it, Roxas addressed the three men standing before him.

"All right. We understand. It's not nearly as simple as we thought it was. But we still want the two of you to try to make up. Become friends at least."

"We're going home the day after tomorrow," Sora said, scribbling something on the paper that Yuffie had handed him. "We'll be back, of course, since we're going to be moving here at some point, but it might not be for a while."

"You should at least start the process of making up before we leave since it's going to take some time," Roxas finished.

Leon scowled at the two boys who had taken it upon themselves to counsel him on his problems. "Sorry, but I don't feel like taking the advice of teenagers today."

Roxas snorted at him. "Oh yeah, and leaving us in the airport was real mature."

While Irvine smothered his laughter, Sora took a step forward and held out the paper. "Here. The number of the hotel we're staying at and our room number. And at the bottom is Dad's cell phone. Call him, okay?" Leon made no move to take the paper, but Zell stepped forward and claimed it for him.

"All right, we'll be going now," Sora announced with a smile. He turned and hugged Yuffie quickly before moving towards the door. Roxas also gave the girl a hug before following. "Bye," Sora called as they stepped through. "Nice to meet all of you." Then he let go of the door and let it clang shut behind him.

For a heartbeat, none of the adults moved. Then, Zell spun on his heel, walked up to Leon, and held up the paper. "Here," he said solemnly. "Do like the kid says. Call him."

Leon turned away, growling. "Why should I?"

Irvine laughed at him. "Because, Squally-boy, after all this time and after all the asshole has done to you, you're still madly in love with him."

"My _name_ is _Leon_."

"And if we needed any more proof on the matter, there it is," the brunet sighed. He plucked the paper from Zell's fingers and manhandled Leon until he had successfully placed it into the other man's pocket. "There," he grinned, fixing his hair which had gotten mussed in the struggle. "Now, if we can just find out what the hell happened to Riku, I can get my bag and we can get out of here."

"He must have gotten scared by that Pillsbury Doughboy doll and run off."

"It's a _moogle_ , Zell."

"And _what_ the _hell_ is a moogle, Irvine?"

"Honestly? I have no clue."

But Riku had not run off with or without Irvine's bag. He had watched the entire scene unfold in stunned silence from the doorway to the back room. Then, when the twins had exited, he had moved back into the room and pressed his back against the nearest wall, dropping the forgotten bag to the floor.

His heart was racing. His breaths were shallow and his cheeks burned. Never in his life had he ever seen anyone so perfect. Not beautiful; Riku was beautiful. But perfect nonetheless. Both of the twins had been good-looking, but in spite of their identical faces, there had been something pure about the brunet. Something in the shine of his eyes, the tilt of his smile, and the earnestness of his speech. Riku had never felt more captivated, more thunderstruck, or more downright outclassed. For the first time in his life, Riku wanted something that he was not completely certain he could have.

There were no lights, no choirs of angels, but in spite of that, there was no doubt that this was love. Love at first fucking sight. With another guy. Riku pressed his hands against his face and slowly slid down the wall to the floor.

Somewhere Fate was laughing at him, and she sounded suspiciously like Yuffie.


	7. Cloud

_He is hovering on the edge of unconsciousness when he first hears it. A soft, repetitive sound from a few feet away. At first, he tries to ignore it and slip back into sleep, but it does not stop, slowly burrowing itself into his mind and making it impossible to do anything but wake._

_Groaning quietly, he tries to lift his head but finds it surprisingly heavy with the thick fog of exhaustion and the mixed drinks that Tifa kept serving him all night. Thoughts of his good friend spark his memories. Sitting around the kitchen table, holding one female against him while the other speaks quietly, offering support and advice. His hands threading through long brown hair while green eyes stare dully at nothing, the spark of life in them dead and gone. His own eyes meeting sad brown ones from across the table and sharing their mutual helplessness, neither knowing what to do to ease their friend's pain._

_As he struggles into a sitting position, he wonders groggily why people have to break each other's hearts like this._

_It takes him a moment to get his bearings and realize he has been lying on the carpeted floor. Then, his eyes search for the sound. Sure enough, she is curled up nearby, crying. He looks about for Tifa, hoping that the other woman will save him from this duty, but there is a lump on the couch across the room, a waterfall of black hair spilling from one end to the floor, and it looks too far away for him to reach in his current state. Sighing, he drags himself over._

_"Aerith," he whispers in a cracked voice. His hand reaches for her, and when it makes contact, she immediately turns and buries her head in his neck. Too tired to remain sitting, he pulls her down to the floor with him, slides his hands up her back, and rests his head against hers. "Talk to me," he says gently, but she shakes her head and cries even harder._

_With her warm weight against his chest, he feels the fog begin to return to his mind. He suspects he is still a bit drunk, and from the hiccupping sounds that Aerith is making, he would not be surprised if she is as well. Not knowing what else to do, he just holds her and lets her cry._

_He is almost asleep again when she whispers, "I'm so cold."_

_Her voice jolts him awake, and he needs a moment to process her words. Finally, he asks, "Want me to get you a blanket?"_

_She shakes her head and repeats, "So cold. Like I'll never be warm again." She shifts in his arms. "Cloud, will you make me warm again?"_

_He does not understand and opens his mouth to tell her so, but then her lips are on his and she is kissing him desperately._

_"Aerith!" he protests. "Stop!"_

_But she does not hear him. Tears fall freely from her eyes as she kisses and touches him. "Just once," she pleads. "Just one more time. I want to be warm again."_

_His hands grip her around the upper arms - gently since he does not want to hurt her - but then she_ **_touches_ ** _him and a sensation he has never experienced shoots through him. His grip slackens and his head tips back in shock. Gasping for breath, he tries to find his voice, his control, but no one has ever touched him there before. Not even …_

_"Squall," he whispers, and the name snaps him out of his trance and into action. "Aerith," he says, reaching for her arms again, "I can't. I'm seeing someone and I … I …" He falters as his hands close around empty air. Confused, he blinks for a moment, fuzzily wondering where she has gone._

_When he finds out, the feeling sends him crashing back into the floor, his body arching clear off of the ground._ **_Stop!_ ** _his mind screams, but all his throat can produce is a hoarse cry. His brain is melting; he can feel it filling with the steam that the heat in his body is producing. And all he can do is cry over and over inside his head,_ **_I can't … I can't … I can't …_ **

_When she finally stops, he is so out of control that he is shaking. Tears leak from his eyes as he whispers, "Please …" Although what he is begging for, he cannot decide. His mind wants one thing, his body another._

_Her face appears before him, her eyes unfocused and wet. She can no longer see him. "Please," she echoes as she positions her body above him. "Please don't leave me." She tucks her face into his neck. "Please, Zack …"_

_He grasps at the name, desperately clawing through the haze in his mind to find some sort of clarity. "No, Aerith. Wake up. I'm not … I can't …"_

_She moves._

_The haze engulfs him._

_It is only after it is all over that he realizes just what he has done. And when he does, he turns his back on her, shoves his fists into his mouth, and screams._

xXx

"Hey, Dad?"

Cloud paused in cutting his chicken to look up at Sora across the table. Both of his sons had barely touched their hamburgers - Roxas's with mushrooms, Sora's without - and they had been giving each other looks and handsigns for the past five minutes. That plus the fact that the two were visibly squirming in their seats alerted Cloud to something amiss. Considering that it was Sora who had finally spoken, he had a terrible feeling that he was not going to be happy about the impending question.

"What?" he asked, resigning himself to his doom.

"Why did you marry Mom?"

He exhaled sharply through his nose. He had been right. It was a dangerous question but, thankfully, one easily avoided. Looking back down at his dinner, he answered evenly, "The standard reason why people get married: love."

While he hoped that would be the end of it, he also knew his boys. Sure enough, Roxas argued, "But you didn't love her." When Cloud shot him a look, he amended, "At least not in a husband and wife way. You know, not sexually."

On his way to becoming seriously irritated, Cloud set his utensils on the table and glared at the younger blond. "Roxas, we are in a public place eating dinner. I do not want to talk about sex right now, especially not _me_ and sex. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dad," Roxas answered with an appropriate look of apology. Sora, however, would not let it go.

"We don't want to talk about you and sex either," he stated, making a face to show how unpleasant a subject that would be. "We want to talk about you and love. Specifically you and who you love."

"Your mother," Cloud responded automatically, picking up his fork again.

"No," Sora shot back. "Squall."

Cloud's knife skidded across his plate, sending a small fountain of baby peas spilling over onto the tablecloth. However, his surprise, violent as it had been, quickly turned to barely suppressed rage. He set his utensils down again, this time with a crash, and aimed a fierce glower at his boys.

"Look," he said sternly, "I don't know what you two are up to, but it ends right now. Whatever feelings I may or may not have had for Squall Leonhart or anyone else, they are my business, not yours. And more importantly, they are over and in the past. I have no intention of discussing them with you, _ever_. So unless you want to be grounded for the next year, I suggest you drop this subject immediately."

Sora shrank back in his seat and nodded obediently, but Roxas tipped his head and asked, "What about Mom?"

"What _about_ Mom?" Cloud hissed.

"Will you tell us who she loved?" When Cloud opened his mouth to snap at him, he interrupted with, "And don't say you because we know she didn't. At least, not in the way that we're not supposed to talk about while eating dinner in a public place." He risked a cocky little smirk.

Cloud sat back in his chair, stunned by how stubborn and just plain ballsy the twins were acting at the moment. Roxas's show of bravery had reanimated Sora, and now both of them were leaning forward, their eyes locked on him in anticipation. They were not about to back down until they had their answers. The expressions on their faces showed that clearly enough.

The air around him began to thin as Cloud sat there and stared. Why were they doing this to him? With Aerith gone, the twins were the only thing he had left to live for. They were the light in the darkness of his life. Their smiles gave him the strength to plow through his days. What would happen to those smiles when they found out about his sins? About Aerith's sins? About the lie they had perpetuated and lived as if it were truth? Would those smiles disappear and take with them Cloud's ability to progress from one day to the next?

Sora's voice, softer now and gentle, cut through his thoughts. "Dad, please," the brunet boy said. "We want to know. We love you and we love Mom, and because we love you, we want to know you and understand you."

"Whatever you end up telling us, it's not going to change how we feel about you," Roxas added in a similar tone. "We're not going to judge you for anything. We just want to know. We want to know why the two of you were never happy."

"We're old enough now that we think we can bear some of your pain for you."

"Yeah, so let us take some. If you share it with us, maybe it'll be easier for you to bear."

"Since Mom died, you've taken both of your shares onto your own shoulders. We can tell. You don't need to do that, Dad. At least share her portion with us."

"Mom can't carry her own pain anymore, so we'll do it. It's okay. We don't mind."

Cloud covered the lower half of his face with one hand and closed his eyes, desperately trying not to break down in the middle of the restaurant. How was it possible that he had been allowed the care of these two angels? He didn't deserve them. Someone somewhere had made a mistake. He had destroyed three lives with one bad decision and five minutes of lost self-control; how could anyone in their right mind have trusted him with such kind, loving children as these?

"Dad?"

A soft touch on his free hand brought Cloud out of his spiral of guilt and misery. He looked down to see that Sora had taken hold of his hand and that Roxas had reached across the table as well to rest his hand on his father's other side. Swallowing carefully and taking a few calming breaths, Cloud wiped away the single tear that hovered on his lashes and then scooped up Roxas's hand so that he held a set of smaller fingers in each of his own.

"His name was Zack," he began. "He and your mom were the golden couple of our high school. They were always happy. Everyone knew that one day they'd get married, have bucketloads of kids, and live out their days like a perfect 50's couple. All the girls in our school wanted a relationship like theirs, and all the guys halfway resented them because of the pressure to live up to them."

The memories from those days brought a small smile to his face, but it quickly slipped away as he continued, "Aerith was a year behind me as you know. Zack was my year. We were actually pretty good friends before he started dating Aer. Zack, Aerith, Tifa, and I were all really close by the time Zack and I graduated. I went to a college around here; Zack went to one closer to home. I stayed in touch with him and the girls for a while, but gradually the letters and calls from him stopped coming." He paused, flushed slightly as he admitted, "I didn't notice at the time since I was busy with my own … relationship."

"Squall, right?" Sora asked.

Cloud nodded, said, "Zack changed that first year in college. It happens. A lot, actually. I really don't know how or why things happened, but he decided he didn't like being tied down to the expectations of that perfect little family life. So he broke up with Aer." He shook his head gently at the memory. "She was crushed. Utterly. When he told her he needed to talk to her, she thought she was finally getting a ring. Instead, she got the 'let's be friends' speech. It destroyed her."

"Didn't he love her?"

"We thought he did," he answered Sora. "I guess we were wrong."

Roxas questioned quietly, "Why did you marry her?"

Cloud closed his eyes. Simply, he stated, "She needed me."

With his eyes closed, he couldn't see their reactions, but he felt their fingers tighten around his. After a moment of silence, Roxas asked, "What happened to this Zack guy?"

He shrugged. Opening his eyes, he explained, "He cut ties with all of us. No one knows where he is now. After Aerith died, Tifa said she was going to track him down, but so far she hasn't succeeded. Not that I blame him. If Tifa were hunting me, I'd go into hiding, too."

"Yeah," Sora agreed with a grin. "Aunt Tifa's _scary_ when she's angry."

Cloud smiled a little and made to comment when his phone rang. Surprised, he dug into his pocket to retrieve it. "Sorry," he said to the boys. "I thought I had turned this off. I'll do it now."

"No wait!" Sora cried, reaching for him. "Answer it, Dad!"

"What?" He lifted his gaze to their suddenly serious faces. "But we're at dinner. It's rude."

"We don't care!" Roxas insisted heatedly. "Don't turn it off. Answer it!"

The little device rang twice more while Cloud stared at his sons in shock, but then he opened it and lifted it to his ear. "Hello?"

For about five seconds, no one spoke. Then, a deep voice asked, "Is this Cloud?"

His breath caught in his throat. In an instant, he had flashbacked to the airport. The shock, the disbelief, the terrible pain. "Squall?" he whispered, not noticing the enormous grins on Sora's and Roxas's faces.

"My name is Leon now," the reply came, cold and formal.

"Ah, yes. I'm sorry. W-what … ?"

"We should talk," the other interrupted. "Come to my apartment this evening. It's right above the bookstore."

"Okay," he agreed automatically, but then his brain kicked in. He had only been to the bookstore once, and that had been many years ago. "Where is it again? I don't remember."

The cold voice seemed to freeze even further. "Ask your sons," he ordered, and then the connection ended with a click.

Slowly, Cloud closed his phone and lowered it to the table. Sora and Roxas were watching him, still grinning, very nearly wriggling in their seats again. But when Cloud raised hard eyes to them, they froze and the smiles vanished.

"What," Cloud asked slowly and deliberately, "did you two do this afternoon?"

"Um," Sora squirmed, "nothing?"

"You went to Lionhearted Books, didn't you?"

"Aheh-heh," Roxas laughed. "Maybe?"

" _Why?_ "

They exchanged guilty glances. "We thought maybe if we went, we could convince Leon to get back together with you," Roxas explained.

Holding on to every ounce of calm he could obtain, Cloud rubbed his forehead and said, "Sora, Roxas, pay attention. Squall and I are not going to get back together. It doesn't matter what feelings I had for him in the past or what I feel for him now. Our relationship is over. I destroyed it myself. It's _over_."

"No, Dad. It's not."

His head shot up at Sora's quiet words. His boys were looking at him again with those twin gazes of sympathy and understanding. A lump of emotion welled up in his throat at the sight of those blue eyes. The maturity within them. How easy it was for him to forget how much they had suffered themselves while still so young.

"It's not over, Dad," Sora repeated, "because if it was, you wouldn't have cried."

Cloud choked. They had been awake? They had heard?

"And if it was," Roxas was continuing, "Leon wouldn't have acted like a baby and run away."

"So go talk to him," Sora finished with a smile. "Talk to him and either start working on putting it back together or end it for good this time. You've carried your broken past around with you for too long. Either fix it or get rid of it. We'll love you either way."

Roxas nodded, and the two of them picked up their cold burgers and began to eat, politely ignoring the tears in their father's eyes.

xXx

When Cloud first caught a glimpse of the proud silhouette in the window of the bookstore, he knew that Sora and Roxas had been right. It wasn't over. Not if the pounding of his heart was anything to go by. He loved Squall - or Leon or whatever the man decided to call himself - and he wanted him as much now as he did six years ago.

But the thing that his boys did not understand was that it didn't matter how much Cloud wanted Leon. If Leon did not want him, then there was nothing he could do. And after what Cloud had done, there was very little chance that Leon would ever want Cloud again.

He stepped up to the door and knocked, making the "Sorry, We're Closed" sign sway a bit. Leon looked up, gray eyes as wild and beautiful as ever, and closed the catalog he had been perusing. A few long strides brought him to the door where he unlocked it and opened it for Cloud. Once the blond had stepped through, he relocked the door and turned his back on him.

"Follow me," he said and walked away. Cloud obeyed in silence, concentrating on keeping his steps steady and his breathing even. Without turning around once to see if Cloud was coming, Leon walked into the back room, up a flight of stairs, and through a door into a spacious living room. Once there, he threw up a hand to tell Cloud to wait and paced down a short hallway to another closed door. If Cloud tried hard enough, he could just hear the sound of music coming from the room beyond.

"Demyx!" Leon yelled, pounding on the door. "I thought I told you to get your ass over to Axel's tonight!"

"I'm not going!" another voice replied. It sounded strained and frightened. "I told you, I'm not leaving until tomorrow!"

Growling slightly, Leon pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine," he said. "But stay in there until I say you can leave. Got it?"

"Yes, boss," the other voice replied. The volume of the music increased slightly.

Leon rolled his eyes and wandered back to Cloud. "Come on," he said, motioning to the kitchen. Once inside, he pulled open the fridge and asked, "Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Water? Beer?"

"I'll have a beer if that's all right," Cloud replied, feeling a bit uncertain. Squall had never been an easy person to read, but right now he had no idea what was going on in the other man's head and it unnerved him.

A beer bottle pressed into his hands, so he took it. A moment later, Leon shut the refrigerator door, a bottle in his own hand, and walked back to the living room, twisting off the top and tossing it in the trash on his way past.

"Sit," he ordered, pointing to the couch with his free hand. Cloud did so, holding the unopened bottle between his knees. Leon sat down next to him, threw an arm along the back, and brought one leg up to rest the ankle against the other knee. He looked perfectly casual and at ease, but his eyes stayed firmly away from Cloud's as he sipped at his drink.

"So," he said after a long, tense moment, "your sons want us to become friends."

Cloud sat up a little straighter, surprised. "They do?" he asked. "That's not what they told me. They told me they want us to get back together."

"Well, they want that, too," Leon conceded, still not looking at him, "but since that's impossible, they'd like us to become friends at least."

"Ah," Cloud breathed in understanding. "But it's also not possible for us to be friends. Is it?"

Finally, Leon looked at him, and Cloud saw the storms. Storms that he knew were present in his own eyes and that only grew stronger the longer he sat next to this man.

"No," Leon said and averted his gaze again.

"No," Cloud echoed quietly, at last twisting off the top of his beer and taking a drink. _No, we cannot be just friends. Not when I want to kiss you so badly that it physically hurts not to._

"How long have you had them?"

The question took Cloud off-guard, and he jumped slightly in surprise and confusion. "What?"

"Your sons," the other explained in that flat tone he had used all night. "How long have you had them?"

"Oh. Three years."

"What happened to the baby?"

A gentle melancholy overtook him in an instant. His heart still hurt for that dead child, even if it had been a mistake. Turning his eyes to the ground, he replied simply, "Miscarriage."

"Hn." The non-committal sound still managed to stab him. "Even so, you stayed with her."

Leon's tone had not held an accusation, but Cloud felt it anyway. "Of course I did," he replied bitterly. "You have no idea how terrible a miscarriage is for a woman. I couldn't just _leave_ her."

"Not right away," Leon countered, his voice cold. "But that was six years ago. How many times did you try before you decided to adopt?"

Cloud flinched. "Three," he eventually admitted.

"Hn."

An uneasy silence descended on them, holding them firmly in its grasp. Desperate to escape it, Cloud rose from the couch and wandered over to one of the large windows to gaze at the night sky. For some reason, looking at the stars had always calmed him, even when he was young.

"I know what you're thinking," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have stayed with her. I should have come back to you. But I always thought that you had moved on. I thought that you had gotten over me, found someone else, forgotten me."

Behind him, Leon laughed once and said quietly, "You don't exactly move on from someone like you."

Surprised, Cloud turned. The brunet had put aside his drink and was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "Sq- … Leon?" he asked, catching himself. "What do you … ?"

But Leon plowed on, ignoring him. "You don't just _forget_ the love of your life."

The bottle in his slackened grip very nearly fell to the ground, but Cloud caught it and put it aside before he could drop it. Trying very hard not to allow his voice to shake, he said, "You … loved me? You never said."

"What about you?" Leon shot back, lifting his head to glare at him. "Did you love me?"

"Yes."

"Well, you never said either. It just wasn't like either of us to say it. And really, would it have made a difference if I had said it?"

Cloud paused and considered. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "Maybe. Maybe I wouldn't have tried to cut ties with you so completely. Maybe I would have come back after the first miscarriage. I don't know. But it wouldn't have stopped me from going in the first place." He lowered his head and allowed his gaze to slip out of focus as he said, "I made the decision to take responsibility for my actions. Even knowing that you loved me wouldn't have changed that."

"How about the fact that you cheated on me?" Leon demanded, his voice dripping with pain and scorn. "Would it have changed _that_?"

Cloud blinked. Suddenly, there were voices in his head. Voices that he had pulled out and listened to so many times over the years that they were permanently engraved into his memory.

_I cheated on him!_

_You did no such thing. Listen to me, Cloud. To cheat on him, you had to have wanted it. Did you want it?_

_No!_

_I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!_

_Hush, Aer. We know how guilty you feel, and it's not helping right now. Look at me, Cloud. Cloud Strife, you look at me right now. Good. Now, repeat after me: I did not cheat._

"I did not cheat."

"What?"

_Good. Again: I was not unfaithful._

"I was not unfaithful."

"Oh really? Then care to explain how you got her _pregnant_?"

Cloud blinked again, and the room came back into focus. Leon was glaring at him, his expression livid. He quickly realized what had happened and that he had spoken out loud. Years of mental training courtesy of Tifa came to his defense. "In order to have cheated on you," he stated, "I had to have wanted to have sex with her. I didn't. She forced me."

"Forced you?" Leon echoed, still white-hot with rage. "What did she do? Put a gun to your head?"

"I know it sounds unbelievable, but it's true. I was half-asleep and mildly drunk. So was she, and she was out of her mind with grief. She didn't even remember doing it."

"That still doesn't change the fact that you could have stopped her and you didn't!"

Cloud sighed and turned back to the window. "You don't understand," he said softly. "You can't. You weren't there."

"No, I wasn't," Leon insisted, rising to his feet and taking a threatening half-step towards him. "That's why it's called cheating, Cloud!"

"Enough!" Cloud cried with a force that surprised even himself. More calmly, he continued, "I was incredibly stupid and I made a mistake that destroyed my life before it had even really begun. The only reason why I'm able to live with myself is because I took responsibility for that mistake instead of running from it and pretending it didn't happen. I don't know if knowing that you loved me would have made me stronger in saying no to her. I don't know if it would have brought me back to you after the first child died. But I know one thing, Squall Leonhart." He turned on his heel and leveled a calm but heavy gaze on the man he loved. "I may have lost myself for five minutes at four in the morning and gotten Aerith pregnant because of it, and I may have had sex with her a grand total of seven times afterwards in order to try to give her the baby she wanted, but not once in these past six years has my heart been unfaithful to you. I loved you then, I love you now, and thanks to tonight, I now know that I'm going to love you for the rest of my fucking _life_. If you want a stronger fidelity than that, by all means, go look for it. I won't stop you. But don't you _ever_ accuse me of cheating again."

Leon stared. He did not speak, did not move. For several long, motionless minutes, Cloud watched him. Watched the blank face and the unfocused eyes. But eventually, his patience ran out. He retrieved the beer bottle, took one last swig for the road, and then put it back down with a thump and began crossing the room to the door. He did not bother to say anything since he doubted Leon would have heard him anyway.

And yet, as he passed the brunet, a hand shot out and grabbed him around the upper arm.

"Wait," Leon said.

Cloud waited, but when Leon said nothing else, he ordered, "Let go. If you don't, I'm either going to kick your ass or rape you. Either way, you'll end up on the floor."

A tiny smirk flitted across Leon's face, but it disappeared quickly. His fingers uncurled from Cloud's arm, and he let his hand drop back to his side. "Don't go," he said quietly.

"Why?" Cloud asked, his tone just as quiet and guarded as the other man's. "Don't tell me you want to be friends?"

"No. I love you too much to be friends, and I hate you too much to be lovers."

"Sounds about right."

"You hate me?"

"No. Me. It's a bad habit I picked up a few years back. My friends keep trying to break me of it, but so far they haven't succeeded."

The smirk returned, and this time it stayed a few seconds before disappearing again. When Leon spoke again, he seemed less tense than before. "Yuffie said you were going to look at houses this weekend. Did you find any?"

"A couple," Cloud answered. "I need to talk it over with the boys, but I think we'll put a bid on one of them."

"So, you'll be moving here then?"

"Yeah, in about two months."

"I see." He ran his hand through his hair and sighed gently. Hesitantly, he said, "Maybe in two months, we can … start over."

Cloud shook his head at him. "Only amnesiacs can start over. The best we can do is move forward, Leon."

At the sound of his new name, the other man finally smiled. He lifted his head and locked gazes with the blond next to him.

"Well said, Cloud."

A little over five minutes later when the door to Lionhearted Books closed behind him, Cloud thought of his sons and smiled. They would attack him the minute he set foot in their hotel room and bombard him with questions. What would he say? The broken pieces of his soul that he had carried within him all these years, they were not gone and they were not fixed. But they had changed. Shifted. And considering how stagnant they had been, how their jagged edges had cut him over and over again in the same places, to have them move, even the slightest bit, was a relief. It felt good.

He lifted his head to the night air and began to walk, the smile lingering on his face.

It felt really good.


	8. Demyx

_The sun is beating down on him, but he does not mind it. With closed eyes, he lifts his face to the heat and smiles. His lungs fill, his fingers move, and the melody rises, full and alive, from his throat._

_His case is not open today. Today, he sings solely for himself. He does not have to alter his playlist to suit the audience in front of him nor flirt with the women in order to squeeze out that extra dollar. Thanks to his job at the bookstore, he has enough money to live on and still have a bit left over. He may never have to sing for his supper ever again._

_"… I will go down with this ship, and I won't put my hands up and surrender. There will be no white flag above my door. I'm in love and always will be …"_

_He never sings his own songs, not in public. But his arrangements are more than simple covers. With the smallest of vocal variations - a stress on a specific word, a tempo change, a staccato that becomes legato - the songs somehow become different, become his. Axel calls it a talent, but he isn't so sure. He doesn't bend the songs to his will; they enter him on their own and use him as the vessel for their own change and growth. After all, songs are living things, or so he honestly believes._

_This song ends, and he opens his eyes to the quiet sound of scattered applause. A few young women have gathered around him. He returns their smiles warily. Normally, he would ask for requests, but today he is a little tired. Thankfully, just as one of the women is opening her mouth to speak, someone pushes violently through them._

_"Make way! Best friend coming through!"_

_Axel barrels into the forefront, sunlight streaming down on his fiery hair like a spotlight. The girls protest his behavior, but one scowl sends them scampering. Satisfied with his work, the lanky young man plops down into the grass and hands over one of the smoothies that he is carrying._

_"Seriously, Dem?" he asks. "Dido? You might as well hang a neon sign over your head saying, 'I am gay!'"_

_"I prefer to think of it as saying 'I am sensitive and approachable.'"_

_"Exactly. Gay."_

_He sighs and stretches out a leg so that he can undo the buckles on his case with his toes. "Fine, Axel, you're right. My repertoire screams homosexual. But it's what I like to sing, so I'm going to keep singing it regardless of what you say."_

_"Never said you shouldn't," Axel remarks smugly, sipping away at his drink._

_He sighs even more loudly and, after putting the guitar away in its case, leans back against the tree they are sharing and sips his own drink. The cool, fruity liquid slides deliciously across his tongue and down his dry throat. It feels so good that he tips his head back into the warm sunlight and just enjoys it for a long moment. The sounds of the park swirl around him: birds chattering to each other, children and dogs running and playing, a bus pulling away from the curb, the bell of the man selling cold treats as he tries to attract customers. They all merge into their own song, a song of life._

_His companion eventually breaks into his thoughts by asking, "So, are you really going to room with Leon?"_

_"Mmm-hmm," he answers lazily. Then, opening his eyes a little, he continues, "I'd be a fool not to. He only wants me to pay a small amount for food and utilities. No actual rent. In fact, he wants me to pay rent by baking things for the store which I'm very happy to do. It's perfect."_

_"A little too perfect if you ask me."_

_He turns and smiles at Axel's unguarded expression of skepticism. "I know it seems like it," he replies, "but there's nothing shady about the arrangement. Leon's just nice like that. I've been working for him for nearly a year already, so it's not like we just met. And I think he likes me. With Leon, it's kind of hard to tell, but I think he does."_

_"All right," Axel concedes, "but if he tries anything funny, if he tries to molest you or anything, let me know and I'll kick his ass."_

_He laughs. "As if you could. Besides, Leon's amazingly hot. I'd welcome it if he tried to molest me."_

_"Ha, does Demyx perhaps have a bit of a crush on his boss?"_

_"On Leon? Nah. Not a crush." He considers for a moment before explaining, "I like quiet, but Leon's quiet is too cold for my tastes. I'd like someone warmer. Someone softer. Sensitive."_

_"Someone who'll sing along with you to Dido."_

_"Shut up." He lands a firm punch on the skinny bicep next to him. Axel just laughs._

xXx

According to the small clock on Demyx's bedside table, ninety minutes had elapsed since Leon had told him to stay in his room until further notice. And a little less than sixty minutes had elapsed since the stressed blond had heard the front door open and close. Since then, he had heard nothing. No raised voices or loud crashes signifying an argument in progress, no moans, thumps, or bed squeaking to suggest a satisfactory reconciliation, not even a word from Leon that Cloud had left. Just silence.

Demyx chewed on a fingernail as his eyes darted from the clock to the door and back again. He had slipped out forty-five minutes ago to make a mad dash for the bathroom and had not been caught, not that he thought Leon would be too upset if he had. But now he was hungry. Ravenous was more like it. While he had counted on no one being near the path between his room and the bathroom, he was almost certain that would not be the case with the path to the kitchen. And if Leon and Cloud were still having their discussion and Demyx walked in on them, Leon would skin him alive.

But … but he was _hungry_ , dammit!

Coming to a decision, Demyx dropped his arms to his sides, inhaled a steadying breath, and stepped purposely to his door. He opened it slowly and, when there was enough space, peeked his head out and looked around. Everything was dark, down both sides of the hall. Channeling his inner James Bond, Demyx slipped through the crack in his door and began sliding down the hallway, his back to the wall and his ears straining for any sound.

When he reached the equally dark living room, he stopped and held his breath, listening and watching. A single light shone out from the kitchen, but even after several minutes of waiting he heard no voices and saw no movement. Carefully, he crossed the open space of the living room towards the doorless entryway. He tried peeking in from half a dozen different heights and angles before summoning enough courage to just walk into the room. It was empty, just as all the other rooms had been.

Feeling at once immensely relieved and horribly irritated, Demyx huffed his breath out in a huge dramatic sigh. "Stupid Leon," he complained to the cabinets. "Went to sleep and didn't tell me. I got myself all worked up over nothing." Shaking his head, he reached out towards a knob to retrieve some sandwich makings.

"I wasn't asleep."

Later on, when recounting the story to Axel, Demyx would swear he jumped two feet in the air. At the moment, however, he was too busy screaming " _Yeeeeep!_ " to measure the actual distance. Whirling around and clutching a hand to his chest, he demanded, "W-w-wha … ? W-where … ?"

Leon smirked at him although his eyes held a heavy weight in their dark depths. "The couch," he explained with a thumb-jerk over his shoulder. "I was stretched out so I guess you didn't see me."

"Oh," Demyx panted, his heart still beating against his chest like it wanted to escape. "So you were asleep."

"No. Just thinking."

"Oh," he said again. Then, finding just enough of his composure to fake indignation, he drew himself up straighter and added, "Well, you should have told me. I've been in my room starving to death for half an hour, but I didn't want to come out because I respect your privacy."

"Sorry," Leon said immediately, the ghost of a smirk still present on his face.

Demyx sighed and, in full control of himself once more, took a moment to let the situation solidify in his mind. He had heard the front door an hour ago and at that time had assumed that Cloud had left. As time passed and no Leon appeared, he had begun to doubt that assumption, but now it looked like he had been right. So what had Leon been doing that whole time? Had he really just been thinking, alone and in the dark? The shadows in his friend's face seemed to confirm it. Demyx felt his throat tighten as he looked at them.

_God …_

Quickly, he turned away from the sight and reached for the cabinet again. "Well, whatever," he said carelessly. "I forgive you. Just don't do it again."

"I won't."

The hollowness of the other's voice made Demyx cringe, but he covered it up somehow. He proceeded to make his sandwich in silence. Leon just stood there in the doorway, watching him. No, not watching him, Demyx realized when he moved to the fridge and Leon's eyes did not follow. Just watching. Staring off into a world that only he could see. A world that only he knew of. Alone.

Demyx grit his teeth as he retrieved the milk and the bottle of chocolate sauce. He wanted to talk to Leon so badly. The words were flooding into his throat, damn near choking him, but he couldn't make them come out. They just wouldn't. Leon wasn't Axel. With the red-head, he would have leapt on him and just beat on him until the secrets starting pouring out, and eventually Axel would feel better and thank Demyx for caring. But Leon wasn't like that. The older brunet wasn't as close of a friend, and he was distant, closed-off, and cold. Demyx didn't even know how to approach him.

But _still_ , no one should have to hurt this much. Not alone.

After putting away the bread, peanut butter, milk, and everything else like the good little housemate he was, Demyx sat down at the small two-person table with his plate, glass, and a bag of chips. Trying to ignore the fact that Leon was still standing in the doorway like a statue, he sank his teeth into his sandwich. The food cheered him up somewhat, but he couldn't help glancing over at the other man from time to time and wishing that he knew what to do to break this thick, heavy silence.

Demyx had finished his sandwich and was digging around in the nearly empty chip bag for something larger than a splinter when Leon finally moved. First his body leaned backwards as if to disappear around the corner into the other room, but then it pitched forward again and in a hurried rush, the taller man strode over to the table, yanked out the other chair, and sat down.

"Demyx," he said in a clipped tone. "Can I trouble you for your opinion on something?"

The blond musician blinked. Then he blinked again. And then three or four more times for good measure. "Y-y-yeah!" he stammered, shocked and thrilled that Leon had started a conversation on his own. "Of course you can!"

Leon nodded, folded his hands together on the table, and bowed his head. "Okay. Let's suppose that you're in a relationship with someone -"

The bark of laughter escaped before Demyx could stop it. "Ah, so we're going completely hypothetical here?" he joked. "I guess I can do that."

The older man stared at him for a moment before twisting his lips into a wry smirk. "Are you telling me," he asked pointedly, "that you sing all of those girly love songs and you haven't even been in a relationship yet?"

"Angsty love songs," Demyx corrected with a sheepish grin. "Mostly about unrequited love or love gone bad. But yeah, guilty as charged."

"I thought you and Axel -"

"Dude! Axel's not even gay!"

"You've got to be kidding me. Of course he is."

"Is not. But that's totally not the point!" He leaned forward in his eagerness to get the conversation back on track. "We were imagining that I'm in a relationship. What's next? What exactly did you want my opinion on?"

Leon sighed and hung his head for a heartbeat. When he lifted it again, his face had hardened and he would not meet Demyx's gaze. "All right, suppose that you're in a perfectly normal relationship, a good one even, and then, out of absolutely nowhere, your boyfriend tells you it's over. What's your reaction?"

"Um," Demyx hesitated, trying to truthfully imagine his own feelings, "confused? And hurt. Shocked. Am I allowed to know why it's over?"

"Yes," the other man replied in a near-growl. "It's over because he slept with someone else and is leaving to marry her."

Demyx gasped, the inhalation sharp and painful in his throat. Even considering his lack of experience with relationships, he could feel it: the pain of the betrayal and the shame of being discarded for someone else. It burned, it stung, and it twisted, and if these feelings arose from the mere imagining of the act, he didn't want to know what having it actually happen would do to him.

But even as the emotions hit him in the chest, something more logical poked at his brain. Something didn't add up. Leon was obviously sharing what had happened between him and Cloud, but from what little Demyx knew of Cloud, the actions didn't fit. According to Yuffie, Cloud was a really nice guy. A bit withdrawn and hard to befriend, but fiercely loyal once you succeeding in getting through his defenses. A caring husband and a devoted father. Vincent's best friend for years. Not at all the type who would string you along and then dump you because he found a better fuck.

"So?" Leon prompted at Demyx's continued silence. "What's your reaction?"

He swallowed a bit and eyed the other man carefully. "Does he show me any concern when he breaks up with me?" he asked with intent. "Any compassion?"

"No."

"None at all?"

"Well," Leon slumped slightly and his eyes slipped sideways as he admitted, "a little."

"Do I get to talk with him? Ask him why he chose her? Ask him to reconsider?"

"No. He leaves before you can."

"What about calls? Emails? Does he return them?"

"You're too proud to send any," Leon replied quietly.

Demyx sat back in his chair and frowned. No, it still didn't add up. And, when he took a closer look at Leon's face and posture, he could see that it wasn't adding up for the brunet either. All of a sudden, realization washed over him as the pieces came together, like dissonant melodies sliding into each other to create a tightly woven harmony. For six years, Leon had held on to a certain viewpoint regarding his break-up with Cloud and had had no communication with Cloud to change that opinion in the slightest. But tonight, the two exes had spoken, and suddenly the foundations of Leon's perspective were shaking. That's why he had approached Demyx - not to get his opinion but as a way to validate Leon's own thoughts.

"Okay," he said slowly. "I think I get it now. But I don't think I can explain properly what my reaction is. Maybe if you asked some more specific questions … ?"

Leon frowned in reluctance but capitulated. "Fine. Would you think that he loved you?"

Internally, Demyx pumped a fist in triumph. Now they were getting somewhere. "No," he replied honestly. "Not unless he had said so, and even then maybe not. I'd be more inclined to think he loved her since he chose her over me."

"Would you think that he regretted dumping you? That he hurt as much as you did?"

"If all I had to go by was what you told me, no. I'd probably assume he was happy with her, and even if he wasn't, he wouldn't want me back." He wanted to say more, but Demyx held his tongue. He didn't know enough about the situation to advise Leon about taking Cloud back one way or the other. Sure, Vincent and Yuffie thought Cloud was a great guy and he thought Leon was a great guy, but if there was one thing that Sarah and Dido and the rest of the angst ladies had taught him, it was that being two good people in love wasn't always enough to make a relationship work.

Leon had fallen silent after Demyx's last response, and he sat with one elbow on the table, its hand covering the lower half of his face. His eyes gazed to the side, unfocused. When he spoke again, Demyx could tell that Leon knew that this 'hypothetical' talk was only for show.

"If you saw him again and he told you that he did love you, that he still loved you, would you believe him?"

The blond's eyes widened in panic. Oh God, he did _not_ want to get into that mess! "I … I don't know," he stammered, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't have to elaborate.

Thankfully, Leon let him off the hook. Instead, he asked, "How would you feel about yourself? Would you be angry at yourself for thinking so little of him? For not chasing him?"

Demyx swallowed. This was still dangerous, but he could handle this one. "Maybe," he answered, "but if I did, I'm sure Axel or Yuffie or one of my other friends would knock me upside the head and tell me to quit it. Beating myself up isn't going to change anything and it isn't going to help. What's done is done. The important thing is to figure out what's best for the two of y-…uh…-us and to go from there. Right, Leon?" He offered the other man a bright smile, part encouragement, part cover-up for his near-slip.

Leon paused and, after a moment, allowed himself a small smile in return. "Right," he replied quietly. He still looked tired and hurt, but Demyx could see a hint of relief in his face as well, as if a little bit of that weight had lifted. Gently, he reached out a hand and messed up the blond's hair. "Thanks, Dem."

"No problem!" Demyx returned happily. "Any time."

Leon said nothing more, just rose and walked out of the kitchen. A moment later, Demyx heard the other man's bedroom door close.

Humming to himself, Demyx proceeded to clean up his dishes and throw the empty chip bag into the trash. He couldn't believe it. Leon had actually come to talk to him, and Demyx had actually helped! He had cheered Leon up, at least a little. It felt so good, all light and bubbly inside. It felt like he could take on the whole world without trouble.

Flicking off the kitchen light, Demyx moved into the living room on his way to his bedroom, but he paused when he saw the mail on a side table, illuminated by the hall light that Leon had left on for him. One of the letters sat a little bit aside from the others. His curiosity sparked, Demyx crossed to it and saw, to his surprise, that it was addressed to him. He almost never got mail. All the bills were in Leon's name, and his family and friends just called or emailed him. Intrigued, he picked it up and examined it. There was no return address, no distinguishing marks, just his name and address in small, neat printing. With a shrug, Demyx pushed his finger through the gap at the top and ripped it open.

A single square of glossy paper fell out, and the sight of it took all of Demyx's good feelings and squashed them. For a long minute, he simply stared at it; then he rushed down the hall, not bothering to turn off the light, dashed into his room, and slammed the door behind him.

The photograph fluttered off of the table and landed on the ground where it lay until Leon found it the next morning.

xXx

"I can't take this anymore, Axel! I just can't!"

The red-head leaned across the wire-mesh table and grabbed the blond by the shoulders. "Dem! Chill! You're getting all worked up over nothing!"

"You call this nothing!" Demyx shrilled, pointing to the small pile of photographs that sat between their lunches. He had eight of them now - the one on the guitar, the one in the magazine rack (retrieved from Yuffie with much pouting on her part), the one in the mail, and five others all received at various times and in various ways. The one that terrified Demyx the most was the one of him and Axel going puddle jumping in the rain last spring. He had found that one in the pocket of his coat one evening while grocery shopping. One moment it hadn't been there, and the next it had. It still made him want to shriek hysterically and run off in some random direction with his hands waving above his head.

"But still," Axel argued, picked one of them up to examine it, "they're just photos. This guy hasn't tried to contact you or anything. Yeah, it's freaky how it seems like he's following you, both to get these shots and to deliver them, but so far all he's done is spam you with pictures of yourself."

Demyx frowned heavily and made to comment, but one of Axel's assumptions sank in and cut off his train of thought. "What makes you think it's a guy?" he asked, curious.

"Dunno," Axel replied with a shrug. "Just a feeling. I don't think a girl would do something like this. If she's too shy to approach you herself, she'd get a girlfriend to do it, you know? She'd at least give you a way to contact her if you're interested. It seems to me that only a guy would do something this stupid and pointless." He tossed the picture back down on the table and reached for his soda. "I mean," he complained, "how does he expect you to fall for him when he gives you no clues to his identity at all? What does he want you to do? Fall for yourself?"

Demyx looked down at the pile in front of him and shuddered. Softly, he said, "I know how to contact him."

Axel looked up in surprise. "You do? How?"

"Luxord's," he replied so quietly that the other had to lean forward to hear. "Last week, he was there in the wings after I finished my set. He'll be there again tonight. I just know he will."

Axel's long-fingered hand crashed down on the table, making Demyx jump. "Well that's it then!" he exclaimed, grinning. "Tonight after you do your set, find him and ask him why the hell he's sending you these pictures."

"But," the musician protested shakily, "I doubt I'll be able to find him. He hides too well for me to notice, even when he's right beside me. If I look for him, he'll just run away."

"Then don't look for him," the comedian insisted. "Just talk. Talk to him like you know he's there. If he's close enough to take pictures like these, he'll be close enough to hear you." Demyx opened his mouth to argue further, but his friend cut him off. "Look, Dem," he said, kindly but firmly, "you want to know what's going on, right? You want this crazy stalker shit to stop, right?"

"Right."

"Then don't be such a wuss. Take a chance and confront this weirdo." Leaning back in his chair, he added lightly, "If you're lucky, you'll scare him off by acknowledging that you know he's there. I wouldn't be surprised if this guy is just as scared of you as you are of him." He smiled, winked, and returned to his lunch as if to say the matter was resolved.

Demyx sighed and poked at his own food, no longer hungry. Slowly, his eyes shifted to the pictures on the table as if drawn to them by a magnet. They scared him so much and yet for some reason he could never bring himself to throw them away. No matter how much it disturbed him that some stranger was taking pictures of him, Demyx had to admit that he was good. Yes, he, because Demyx agreed with Axel that a man was doing this. A man who knew how to bring out the best in Demyx and make him appear sexier and more alive than the blond knew he could be. Which was strange because not once in his life had Demyx thought the word "sexy" would ever apply to him. It felt weird to know that someone out there thought that he was sexy and knew how to capture those moments so that others could see them as well. Weird, and a little bit exciting.

Abandoning his lunch entirely, Demyx reached out and carefully retrieved the eight pictures, putting each one gently into his lyrics' folder.

xXx

The applause rang out as strongly as it had the week prior, but Demyx barely heard it. He forced a smile, a little wave, and then dashed from the stage as if the crowd were booing instead of cheering. Axel, waiting for him in the wings, shook his head a little at Demyx's anxiety and slipped an arm around the musician's shoulders before he could topple over from nerves.

"All right," he whispered encouragingly in his ear as the emcee went through his spiel onstage. "Everything's set. Luxord is over there on the other side of the stage. He'll be watching you while you're watching me so if anything happens to you, he'll raise the alarm immediately. I'm only a few steps away, and I have several lighters and a miniature flamethrower. If you need me, scream, but _only_ if you need me. I don't want to burn anything I shouldn't. Okay?"

Demyx nodded and tried to stop his trembling. "Okay."

"Okay," Axel smiled, giving him a thump on the back. "Here I go. Don't chicken out on me now." And with a final smile, he was gone, off into the blazing lights of the stage and the happy screams of his fans.

Left alone, Demyx stood still and tried to breathe. His palms were sweating; his knees were shaking. He felt like an absolute wreck. Truth be told, he wanted nothing more than to stand there, frozen, for the entirety of Axel's act. Unfortunately, he couldn't. His two friends had planned the whole night, and if he didn't appear in Luxord's line of sight soon, the other blond would begin to worry. That would undoubtedly result in another lecture and/or pep talk, the only difference being that this one would carry an accent.

Sighing, Demyx took the few steps to his guitar case, carefully positioned by Axel before the performances began, and lifted his instrument up over his head. After laying it down and closing the lid, he stood up straight, inhaled slowly and deeply for courage, and lifted his chin to look out at the empty space in front of him.

"I know you're here," he began. "I know you're somewhere, watching me. You've been following me all week. Taking pictures of me for months. I want to know why."

He bent down to retrieve a piece of paper and a pen from Axel's bag of supplies. Straightening, he held them up in each hand as if showing them to a group of spectators. He continued, "I'm going to put these on my guitar case, and then I'm going to go watch Axel's act. He's doing twenty minutes tonight. I'll be watching him for ten, and then I'll turn around and check my case. During that time, I'd like it if you let me know why you're doing this." He swallowed, and when he spoke again, a slight bit of pleading had entered his tone. "Why are you taking pictures of me? Why are you giving the pictures to me? What do you _want_ from me? I …" He was starting to panic; he could feel it. Before it could get too far, he quickly laid the paper and pen on his case and took two steps backwards.

"I want to know," he finished before turning his back on the darkness of the wings and facing the heat and the lights of the stage. A few more steps brought him to his normal watching spot, and he leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted. Across the stage, he could see Luxord, his concerned expression melting into a smile as Demyx came into view. The blond bar owner gave him a quick thumbs-up, undoubtedly to encourage him, but Demyx shook his head and trained his tired eyes on Axel. He didn't feel like being optimistic yet.

Originally, Demyx had thought that those ten minutes of waiting would drag on forever. He had expected that he would be jumping at every small rustle, aching to turn around but having to force himself to stay still. He had thought that it would be torture. Instead, before he realized how much time had passed, he found himself blinking at Luxord who was alternately waving a hand above his head and pointing at his watch. Shocked, Demyx checked his own watch and found that ten minutes had in fact gone by. A cold fear assaulted him and threatened to freeze him in place, but he fought it and turned around.

The piece of paper and pen were exactly where he had left them, but the page was no longer blank. A single line of writing stood out from the white sheet, written in that same small, neat printing. With trembling fingers, Demyx lifted up the paper so that he could read it.

**_I want nothing from you. If you don't like the pictures, throw them away._ **

The paper slipped from Demyx's loose fingers and slowly floated to the ground. His unseeing eyes continued to stare where the sheet had been. Behind that blank gaze, his mind tumbled and whirled. This was _not_ what he had expected. A love confession or some crazy statement of possession, yes. But not this. Not a 'Don't mind me. Pretend I'm not here.'

With his eyes wide and his mouth still hanging open slightly in shock, Demyx lifted his head and scanned as much of the backstage area as he could see. As usual, he found nothing. If his stalker was still around, he had vanished into the shadows yet again. Frustrated, Demyx frowned, balled his hands into fists, and demanded of the air, "Why? I don't understand! Why are you doing this? _Why?_ "

No one answered him. The stillness of the wings remained unchanged.

Slowly, Demyx sank to his knees beside his guitar case. His fingers reached out and retrieved the page that had fallen. As if half asleep, he looked down at the writing briefly before placing the sheet against his chest.

"I don't understand," he whispered into the darkness, his voice drowned out by the applause of the audience. "I don't understand …"


	9. Zexion

_The man across from him stares. He stares back._

_"So you're the wonder kid. How old are you anyway?"_

_"I'll be twenty in a month and a half."_

_"You're kidding. You look like you're twelve."_

_He ignores the blatant attempt to rile him and continues to stare. He knows he looks younger than he is, especially now that he is growing out his bangs, but no one could ever mistake him for twelve. Seventeen at the youngest. And this man is not one to lecture people on how they look. Professors in biochemistry should not have braids sprouting all over their heads and sideburns so thick that they look like they are sentient and might crawl off his face at any moment._

_After several long minutes of silence, Professor Xaldin leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm not really looking for another TA right now."_

_He says nothing. Next to him, Lexaeus comes to his defense, his low, quiet tone carrying effortlessly across the table. "Zexion's eventual goal is to work with Professor Vexen, and he plans to apply for that position once the professor's current TA graduates next year. But this year he has no plans."_

_"Vexen, huh?" A heavy gaze bores into him, unrelenting in its intensity. "Vexen only takes one TA at a time, and he works him like a dog. You think you can handle that?"_

_He nods once. Yes, he can handle it. It's part of the reason why he wants to study under the man: his dedication and devotion to his work. He knows it will fit perfectly with his own fierce single-mindedness._

_Lexaeus continues, "I suggested that instead of sitting idle for that year, he help us prepare our upcoming publication." When Xaldin shifts his tangible gaze to his current TA, the young man states, "We could use the extra set of hands."_

_Xaldin considers this for a moment before conceding, "I guess we could." He uncrosses his arms and rests his head in one hand. The fingers of the other hand drum upon the table. "I'll consider it," he says. His tone changes as he asks, "So, Wonder Kid, what else do you do besides study?"_

_He opens his mouth to respond, "Nothing," but before he can speak the word, Lexaeus has plowed over him like an avalanche._

_"Zexion is an amateur photographer. He's rather good, actually."_

_Frowning, he tries again to speak, but a foot settles on his and presses gently. When he meets his friend's gaze, he sees the warning in the other's blue eyes._

_"Photography, huh?" Xaldin is saying. "What do you take pictures of?"_

_Reluctantly, he takes part in the game. "Plants mostly. Flowers. Trees."_

_"Nature lover. I see. That's good." The professor's eyes drill into him for another moment; then he looks away and idly changes the topic of conversation._

_After about twenty minutes of questions and discussion in which all three participate equally, an alarm on Xaldin's watch_ _beeps, and he looks at it, surprise on his face. "Damn. I need to go." He stands, digs in his pocket for a moment, and then throws some money on the table, enough to pay for their drinks with plenty extra. "Nice to meet you, Wonder Kid," he says with a smirk. "I'll get back to you on the job, by the end of the week at the latest. See you on campus, Lex." He sketches a wave with one hand as he turns and walks away. He does not look back._

_Lexaeus grunts softly and leans back in his chair. "I think that went well," he comments to himself. "It's hard to tell with the professor."_

_He has crossed his hands on the table and stares at them with irritation. "Lexaeus," he asks, "why did you tell him I'm into photography? I haven't touched my camera since I was fifteen. You know that."_

_"Professor Xaldin isn't like Professor Vexen," his friend explains patiently. "Professor Xaldin believes that students should do more with their lives than just study. I could tell he was already suspicious of you, and if he found out that you have no hobbies at all, it would have destroyed your chances entirely."_

_"Then I would just have waited until next year to apply for a job with Professor Vexen, like I had originally intended."_

_Lexaeus chuckles, a gravelly, rumbling sound. "You and every other grad student with half a brain and an ounce of ambition. Xaldin and Vexen are friends. Impress Xaldin, and he'll put in a good word for you next year. It'll increase your chances." An eyebrow slowly lifts in his direction. "I've already said all this."_

_"I know," he replies, fighting the urge to pout. "But I am_ **_not_ ** _a nature lover."_

_The chuckles return. A moment later, his enormous friend stands, blocking out the sun with his frame. "Come on," he says. "We have a bus to catch."_

_As they walk across the park to the bus stop, neither says a word. This is why he likes Lexaeus, why they are such good friends. Lexaeus understands his aversion to social interaction, his dislike of people pretty much in general. People, as a whole, are stupid. Always caught up in their messy, illogical emotions. Vague, undefined feelings such as love, passion, anger, or despair. He does not bother with emotions; he has no use for them. He likes the rigid, structured world of science and mathematics. Even his photography was a study in distances and angles rather than some Kilmer-esque worship of the so-called beauty of nature. He studied it, practiced it, and when he had perfected it, discarded it without a second thought._

_They reach the bus stop and wait in continued silence. Feeling bored, he allows his eyes to wander. The park is as dull and depressing as ever. Idiots everywhere. Marching blindly from one day to the next, pretending that their pathetic emotions actually mean something in the grand scheme of the cosmos. That happiness actually matters. He knows better. He knows that the universe runs on numbers, and that numbers don't give a damn about spiritual fulfillment or inner peace. Numbers are cold and hard and will always give the same result no matter what. The universe doesn't care that your love is unrequited or that you've finally found "the one" or that your heart is aching or soaring or dying or that there's an angel sitting in the middle of the park -_

_He blinks._

_There's an angel sitting in the middle of the park._

_His lips part slightly as his jaw falls slack. He stares._

_An angel. A blond angel. Sitting in the grass with bare feet and a soft smile. Talking to someone next to him, an expression of fond indulgence on his face. Now taking a sip of the drink he is holding, pink lips forming a small circle around the white plastic of the straw. Letting his eyes fall closed, his head tilt back, his lips slip into a smile._

_There are no wings, but it's so obvious. This creature is not sitting in the sunshine; he_ **_is_ ** _the sunshine. The light radiates from him, positively blinding. He is light personified, an impossible divine creature made plausible and real. Why has no one noticed? Can no one else see? Is he the only one who realizes that a mythical being of Heaven is sitting right here in their midst?_

_His hands are trembling. His mouth is dry. There is a fiery shaking feeling in his stomach. It makes no sense. Logically, the mere sight of this person should not induce such a physical reaction. A quick analysis of his symptoms can produce no scientific results. Science and mathematics, the bases of his world, are no help here. The angel has destroyed the foundations of his existence and left him drowning in unfamiliar waters, fighting for a handhold, gasping for breath._

_He has to do something. He has to understand._

_"Zexion."_

_Lexaeus's voice wrenches him away momentarily from the vision. He turns to find his friend looking down at him from a greater height than usual. The bus is here. Lexaeus is inside, waiting for him._

_"You coming?"_

_He wants to scream that he can't come yet. That he has to find out more about the angel. His name, his address, anything. He has to learn the reason why his body is reacting the way it is. He has to justify it, make it fit into his pre-existing life of logic. If he doesn't, he may just go mad. So he can't just get on the bus and leave. He needs to run across the expanse of the park, fall at the angel's feet, beg to stay in his presence and bask in his glory …_

_Lexaeus looks at him._

_"Yeah, I'm coming."_

_His hands grasp the rail. His feet move up the stairs. Behind him, the door slides shut. Together, they sit down on uncomfortable plastic seats. The bus drives away, leaving the park and its unearthly inhabitant behind._

_His fingers twitch. His camera. He wants his camera. It's buried in a box somewhere in his closet, but when he gets back to his room, he is going to uncover it. He is going to uncover it, track down the angel, and preserve that perfect face on film. If it takes him all day, all week, even all year, he_ **_will_ ** _find him. Perhaps then this strange burning in his chest will ease and the pounding of his heart will stop._

_And if not, he will simply follow the angel until it does._

xXx

Zexion walked away from The Royal Flush, his large messenger bag slung over one shoulder. No one had taken any notice of him as he had left the club. They never did. What was that song from that musical? "Mr. Cellophane". He was the embodiment of that song. " _You can look right through me, walk right by me, and never know I'm there._ "

He shook his head, blue-black bangs briefly moving to obscure both eyes before falling back into their usual place. That didn't matter right now. What mattered was Demyx. Tonight had not gone well. He had upset and confused the musician, risked his anonymity in a moment of weakness, and to top it off had not even gotten any new pictures. Demyx's expression of despair had been just as ethereal and captivating as his usual smile, but Zexion had not dared use his camera, not after the previous week when the blond had heard him. That sight would simply have to remain within his memory.

After a year of following the other young man around, Zexion no longer thought of him as an angel. Instead, Demyx was his Muse. The blond made him feel things that no one else did, and every feeling drove the aspiring scientist to capture it forever on film. However, after all this time, Zexion still didn't know why. He didn't understand how a simple smile could fill his body with warmth or how a couple of tears could make him feel hollow inside. The logic of it continued to elude him. He had thought that perhaps Demyx himself could provide some answers, but the photographs had only succeeded in spooking the young man. That experiment had failed miserably.

Not once had Zexion considered actually speaking to Demyx. To expose himself to another like that was unthinkable.

As he walked the streets to his apartment, ignoring everyone else on the sidewalks, Zexion let the images from the evening run through his mind over and over. Demyx had surprised him with his little speech and even more so with the determination on his face as he laid down the pen and paper. Zexion had been in so much shock and awe that he had wasted most of the ten minutes in a strange fuzzy daze. Only at the last minute had he found enough of himself to dash across to the paper and scribble down that one line, hoping that it would satisfy the blond and ease his fears.

It hadn't.

_Why_ , Demyx had asked. And then the soft repetition of three words in a voice of sorrow. _I don't understand_.

"Exactly," Zexion murmured to himself as he ascended the stairs to his room. "I don't understand either. And that's why." He jammed the key into the lock with slightly more force than necessary and wrenched the door open.

Once inside, he dropped his bag unceremoniously on the floor and collapsed into a chair. Somewhere along the way, he had picked up a headache to go with his black mood. Wonderful. Throwing one arm over his eyes, he slumped further down in the chair and sighed.

He had messed up with those photographs. When the idea had occurred to him, he had postulated that receiving them anonymously might be a little disconcerting, but not being that in tune with society as a whole, he had not foreseen just how badly it would affect the other young man. The result had been far more severe than expected, and now Demyx was upset. Logically, he kept telling himself, that fact should not bother him nearly as much as the fact that his experiment had failed. But it did. It bothered him tremendously to think of the sadness in Demyx's eyes, the confusion on his face, and the pain in his voice. And when he admitted to himself that he had caused that pain, his whole body screamed with a dull, hollow agony.

He had messed up, and somehow he had to fix it.

_Why? …_ The word echoed in his head, again and again. _… Why?_

Zexion lowered his arm and stared blankly at his wall. "Why?" he whispered to himself. "Why indeed. Maybe … I just need to answer it?"

Hesitantly, he rose from his chair and crossed to his desk. On the surface lay dozens of pictures. All of them of Demyx, all copies. The originals he kept safely in albums beneath his bed. These select few he had copied with the intention of presenting them to his Muse in the coming weeks. He supposed, feeling a pang of disappointment, that they wouldn't be needed anymore.

A bit of rummaging in his drawers produced a piece of paper and a pen. Clearing a space for himself on the desk, Zexion sat down with both and began to write.

**_Demyx -_ **

**_This evening, you asked me why. Why do I take pictures of you? The answer is simply because I have to. Whenever I see you smile or watch you lose yourself in music, I can't not preserve that moment for all eternity. In the year that I have watched you, I have tried many times to let a moment go by without capturing it. Each time, I have regretted letting the moment slip away. You inspire me like nothing and no one else has. I do not understand why that is, but after all this time, I no longer bother to fight it._ **

**_Why did I send the pictures to you? Because I wanted you to see them. That's all. I have no ulterior motive. I don't want you to approve of them or me, and I certainly don't want you to come find me. I am happy being Echo, alone in the shadows, watching you from afar. I expect nothing, I want nothing, only to continue capturing the beauty and purity I see within you so it doesn't fade away._ **

**_Hopefully this letter will ease your fears and allow you to smile again. If I had known giving you the pictures would banish it for so long, I never would have done so._ **

**_Signed, no one of consequence_ **

So, there it was. The answer to why. Zexion laid his pen down and stared at it. It felt weird, writing his thoughts out like this, but in a way it also felt cleansing. Like it was something that he had needed. Shrugging slightly to himself, he reached into his desk for an envelope in which to place the letter. He would drop it off at the bookstore in the morning. Whether it helped the situation or not, well, that was up to Demyx to decide.

xXx

"Zexion."

At Professor Vexen's voice, Zexion paused in his washing of lab equipment and looked up expectantly. The professor was at his desk, head bent over some papers, one hand scratching away with a pencil, the other waving a different sheet of paper in the air. Obeying the wordless summons, Zexion rinsed the soap from his gloves, tore them off after turning off the tap, and crossed the room, wiping his slightly damp fingers on his slacks.

"Yes, Professor," he said once he had drawn level with the desk.

"Remember that bookstore I took you to last week? Lionhearted Books."

Zexion's heart thumped heavily in his chest. Yes, he remembered that store. He had been there this morning, in fact. Keeping his face impassive, he answered, "Yes, Professor."

The flying sheet of paper appeared beneath his nose. "Take this over to Leonhart. I want to order these magazines from him. You shouldn't need to do anything except give this to him. Just tell him to put it on my account, and he'll take care of the rest."

"Yes, Professor." Zexion took the paper, and Vexen used the suddenly free hand to push his escaping glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "Anything else?"

"Not right now, no. I'll probably be in the middle of class when you return, so you can spend the remaining time however you like." Sharp green eyes suddenly tore themselves away from their work and fixed on him. "Oh, just a minute! There is something else." Vexen dropped his pencil for the moment and sat up straighter in his chair. Stretching a bit, he continued, "I've been trying to get Xaldin to support Lionhearted Books as well. Before you go, stop by his office and see if there's anything he wants to order."

"Yes, Professor." As Zexion let his eyes wander down the list of publications that Vexen wanted, he allowed his curiosity a bit of freedom. "If I may ask, sir, why do you give so much of your business to that particular store?"

His mentor shrugged, grimaced at the resulting pain, and began to roll one shoulder slowly back and forth. "I believe in supporting local businesses," he replied casually. "And Leonhart has always been quick and efficient with my orders. Why?" he asked, eyeing his TA with sudden distrust. "Should I have another reason?"

Zexion shook his head and successfully repressed his smile. He was certainly not going to suggest that his professor patronized that particular store because it had ties to the Gast family, even if it was only through marriage. "I'll be off then, sir."

"Thank you, Zexion."

"Of course, Professor."

The promised stop by Professor Xaldin's office had resulted in a mad dash to get a list together and the booting out of Lexaeus with orders to follow Zexion to the store and introduce himself. The entire thing had been very amusing to Zexion who had intimate personal knowledge of the disaster that was Xaldin's filing system. At least at this particular moment there was a path from the desk to the door amid all the papers and books. When Zexion had worked for him, he had felt more like an Olympic hurdler than a teaching assistant. It truly was a wonder that the man ever published anything at all.

"You look tired," Lexaeus told him as they left campus together. "Is Vexen working you too hard?"

"Not too badly," he replied with a casual shrug. "No more than usual."

His friend peered at him for a moment in quiet contemplation. "I still think you look tired," he announced after a moment. "Has anything been bothering you lately?"

Zexion swallowed and quickly changed the subject. "I'm fine. What about you? Didn't you have a date last night?"

Lexaeus's face immediately flushed red all the way to the roots of his red-brown hair. Inwardly, Zexion smirked.

"I did," the big man admitted.

"What was the woman's name again? Quincy?"

"Quistis. Quistis Trepe."

"She's a teacher at the high school, right? You met at one of Professor Xaldin's open lectures."

"That's right."

"So? How did the date go?"

The red color in his friend's face began to turn a definite purple. "Fine," he answered lowly.

Zexion suppressed another smirk and the urge to laugh. The date must have gone much better than "fine" to produce such a blush from his stoic friend, but he wasn't about to point that out. He had no desire to embarrass Lexaeus, only move the conversation away from himself, and that he had accomplished quite well.

Fifteen slightly awkward and completely silent minutes later, they pushed open the door to Lionhearted Books and stepped inside …

… and were instantly accosted by a wide-eyed blond.

"Excuse me!" he said brightly, shoving a notepad and pen in their faces. "I'm doing a study on handwriting, and I was wondering if you'd be willing to provide me with some samples. I don't need much. Just a simple sentence or two will be more than enough."

"Demyx!" hissed a young man with wild red hair, appearing out of nowhere to snag the other by the elbow. "Cut it out! If Leon catches you harassing the customers, he'll kill you!"

"I'm not harassing them!" Demyx protested as the other pulled him away. "I'm just asking for a couple of sentences."

"You're harassing them," the red-head repeated, pushing the blond into a chair behind the counter. "Now stop it. Seriously. Losing your job over something as stupid as this is the last thing you need." Ignoring Demyx's pout and subsequent grumbles, he turned and offered a wide, friendly grin to the two men still standing only a few steps inside the door. "Can I help you gentlemen with something?"

Lexaeus turned to Zexion, obviously expecting him to take the lead since he had been there before, but Zexion was in far too much shock to move. He just stood there, wide-eyed and staring, giving the impression to anyone who looked at him that his brain had completely shut down.

Demyx was collecting handwriting samples. _Handwriting samples!_ If he somehow managed to bully Zexion into giving him one, his anonymity would be compromised. And then everything would fall apart. His Muse would reject and abandon him; he just knew it. And Zexion would be left chock full of these annoying emotions and no way to ease them.

"Zex?" Lexaeus's hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present. "You all right?"

"Yes," he forced out, rearranging his face into its normal blankness. "I'm sorry. I was just a bit surprised, but I'm all right now." Turning away from his friend's concerned face, he stated, "We're here to place some special orders."

"Ah," the red-head replied, looking relieved. "You'll need Leon then. He's in the back checking on stock or something. Dem, go get him." He poked the blond in the arm.

"Why should I?"

"Maybe because you actually work here and I don't? And because if I leave you here, you'll just start attacking customers again."

"I was _not_ attacking them!"

"Would you just go?"

Growling, Demyx rose from his seat and, after shooting the other young man an extremely dirty look, stomped off to the back room. Thankfully, it only took a few minutes for Leon to appear, Demyx following sulkily behind.

The tall brunet greeted the two of them with a slight inclination of his head. "Zexion, wasn't it?" he confirmed. After receiving a nod in reply, he asked, "What can I do for you?"

Zexion held out the sheet of paper that Vexen had given him. "Professor Vexen would like to order these publications." When Leon took the page, he gestured to his side and added, "This is Lexaeus. He is the assistant for Professor Xaldin who would also like to order from you."

Leon nodded, his eyes scanning the list. "Will all of this be going on Vexen's account?"

"No," Lexaeus answered. "Professor Xaldin would like to set up his own account."

Leon's steely gaze lifted from the paper to rest on the taller man. "I don't do orders on invoice for new accounts."

"Professor Xaldin is aware of that. I am authorized to make either a cash deposit or to prepay the full balance using the professor's charge card."

Leon nodded, satisfied. "All right then. Let me take care of Vexen's order first; then we'll set up a new account for your professor."

"Certainly."

As Leon set to work, sometimes entering things into the computer, sometimes filling out hard copy forms, Zexion stood next to Lexaeus and breathed slowly through his nose. Over in the corner of the store, another conversation was taking place in hushed voices. Any other time, he might have ignored it, but today he knew it was important, _very_ important, that he catch every last word.

"What's up with you, Dem? Last night you were all shaking in your boots, and now you're completely fired up and shit. What gives?"

"It's 'cause I'm not in any danger. This guy, whoever the hell he is, isn't about to kidnap me and cut my foot off. Now that I know that, I don't have to be scared anymore."

"Okay, I get it. I think. So where's this letter you wanted me to read?" A rustle of paper and a pause. Then: "This is seriously messed up."

"I know! I mean, why doesn't he want me to chase after him or anything?"

"Um, no. That's not what I meant."

"I mean, Echo? What the hell? Does that make me Narcissus? Tell me, Axel. Do I _look_ like a Narcissus?"

"Is this a trick question?" A thwap and a yelp of pain. "Ow! Dammit, that hurt!"

"Good." A pause. "Axel?"

"Yes, Dem?"

"I'm angry."

"I kind of figured that out."

"I'm _seriously_ angry."

"Yeah, so you said."

"You know what I'm going to do?"

"I don't even want to venture a guess."

"I'm going to find this guy, and when I do, I'm going to _force_ him to be friends with me!"

"That has got to be the most fucked up threat I've ever heard." A laugh, followed by several more. "And you know what? I'm going to help you. Of course I am. Why wouldn't I? Ah ah ah, but not by harassing Leon's customers. No. We'll think of a better way."

Zexion exhaled very slowly and very deliberately. This … was … _bad_. If Demyx was actively looking for him, he wouldn't be able to take any more photos. Even with his natural ability to be overlooked, if the blond paid even a slight bit of attention, he would notice the same small figure constantly in the background. Knowing Demyx, he wouldn't even hesitate. He'd approach Zexion and hound him with questions that he'd be forced to answer truthfully because he'd never been any good at lying and then Demyx would know and then it would be _over_. All of it. A year's worth of searching, of suffering, all for nothing.

"All right, Zexion, here's the receipt for Vexen's order. Now, Lexaeus … did I pronounce that right?"

"Yes."

"I'll need some basic information to start your account."

"Of course."

Zexion's heart was pounding wildly, but he forced it to quiet. He could figure this out. All he needed to do was calm down and think. That last letter had done more harm than good it seemed. Demyx had taken particular offense at his allusion to Echo and Narcissus. By analyzing the musician's statements regarding that and his threat to find Zexion and befriend him, the young scientist could logically conclude that what Demyx desired most was to open a dialogue between the two of them.

Zexion flinched, crushing the receipt slightly in his hand. A dialogue. That was the one thing he _didn't_ want. And yet, he realized as he smoothed out the paper he held, he had already sort of opened one with his letter. If he could somehow give Demyx a way to respond without having to volunteer his name or face, perhaps that would satisfy his Muse enough to call off the search for his identity. Yes, that might work. A problem like this he could manage.

By the time Leon had finished with Lexaeus, Zexion knew exactly what he wanted to do. As he and his fellow TA left the store, he spoke his excuse which Lexaeus accepted without hesitation. The two parted, Lexaeus heading towards campus, Zexion further into the town. Ten minutes later, Zexion stepped out of the post office with two small keys in his hand. Finding a nearby bench, he sat down, pulled out a notepad, pencil, and envelope from his bag, jotted down a quick note, and then sealed note and one of the keys in the envelope. He wrote his Muse's name on the front of the envelope, allowing the smile to take over his face as he did so.

Yes, this would work. Demyx would have his curiosity satisfied, and Zexion could remain perfectly safe. At the worst, Demyx would tire of talking to him, and then Zexion could go back to taking pictures and trying to figure out his feelings in peace. Logically, nothing could go wrong.

Calm and content, Zexion stood, slipped the envelope in his pocket to deliver later, and began the walk back to campus.


	10. Yuffie

_She whistles a little to herself as she skips across campus, excitement making her steps light and quick. Her classes are over for the day, so it's time to visit the secret spot that only she knows about. She'll have complete quiet, a kickass view, and the satisfaction of knowing that her sweet ninja skills outrank all others in the land. Triple the awesome in one compact package._

_When she reaches the bottom of the hill, she pauses a moment to look upwards. It's a bit of a rough climb since the hill is steep and densely wooded, but she knows from experience that's it's totally worth it. She repositions the strap of her backpack on her shoulder. Studying there is going to be so much cooler than studying in her room or in a dull old library. With this happy thought in mind, she begins the trip to the top._

_Halfway there, she stops. Through a break in the trees, she can see the clearing for which she's headed, but the space isn't as empty as it was the day before. Instead, she can just make out a figure lying on the grass. A foul interloper has invaded her territory! Unforgivable! The fiend will pay! Burning with purpose, she puts her head down and finishes her ascent in record time, bursting into the clearing like a wildcat on the rampage._

_In spite of the noise she makes, the stranger does not react. He is a male, dressed in black jeans and a black turtleneck. One knee is bent, the other straight, and one arm covers his eyes, hiding the top half of his face from view. Based on the length of his legs, he is probably rather tall, but it is hard to tell when he is lying flat. All of these things her brain notices automatically and files away for later; at the moment, she is too busy being righteously indignant to care._

_"Hey, you!" she yells, standing akimbo with her hands planted firmly on her hips. "Just what do you think you're doing? This is_ **_my_ ** _spot! I found it yesterday!"_

_The arm lowers, revealing a pair of intense brown eyes and the most perfect profile she's ever seen. Her jaw wants to drop because he's just so gorgeous, but she successfully holds onto her angry glower. She will not give up her secret lair just because the invader is cute._

_"Yesterday," he echoes. His voice is deep and sexy and would probably give her shivers if she were that type of girl, which she_ **_isn't_ ** _. "That doesn't give you ownership of this place."_

_"Yes it does!" she argues. "I was here first! That makes it mine!"_

_He smirks slightly, and even that is sexy in an annoying sort of way. "Actually, I was here first. I found this spot three years ago."_

_She frowns to herself. So he's a senior. And she's just a lowly freshman. As much as she doesn't want to admit it to herself, that means he's right. This place is his. Crap. And that means she's come up here for nothing. After she climbs back down this hill, she'll have to look for another secret lair, and considering how long it took her to find this one, she doubts she'll have much luck. Double crap. On rye toast._

_His smirk softens into a real smile at the sight of her disappointment. "I'll be gone next year," he tells her kindly. "You can have it then."_

_Her frown deepens. As she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her backpack strap digs a bit into her shoulder. She_ **_really_ ** _doesn't want to go back down. One more look at his handsome face, and she's made her decision. "No," she announces, "I don't want to wait. We can share."_

_His eyes widen dramatically. "Share?" he repeats._

_"Yeah," she says, moving closer and shrugging off her backpack. "You know, like they taught you to do in kindergarten? Share."_

_He sits up, and she suddenly realizes how long his hair is. It spills about his shoulders in beautiful black waves. She has to bite her tongue to keep it from lolling out. His hotness factor has just shot through the roof._

_He is eyeing her warily, his body language tight and unsure. "Do you know who I am?" he asks._

_She blinks. "No. Should I?"_

_"I'm Vincent Valentine."_

_She tips her head and lets the name roll around in her mind. It does sound a bit familiar. A moment later, mental gears click into place and she cries, "Oh, I remember! A girl on my hall mentioned you. She said you're like some creepy vampire or a Satan worshipper or something and that everyone should stay away from you if we don't want our souls ripped out." Her eyes shift to meet his, and she finds him smiling a little._

_"That's me," he murmurs in his soft, low voice._

_She's not fooled. Not for a moment. Even she can see that it's a very sad smile. Shrugging, she plops down on the ground next to him and starts pulling out a book and some notes. "Whatever," she states casually. "We're still sharing."_

_Vincent Valentine, super hottie and unconfirmed devil worshipper, stares at her in shock. "You're not going to leave?"_

_"I'm not scared of you," she informs him, now digging through pockets for a working pen. "I've done my reading. You vampires like delicate chicks with long flowing hair and an obsession with lace and see-through nighties. I'm totally not your type. Besides, if you try to rip out my soul, I'll kick your ass from here to next Tuesday." She pauses to give him a scrutinizing once-over. "Besides, I bet you made up those stories about yourself on purpose to keep the ladies from fawning all over you." When he gives her a stunned look, she waves her pen triumphantly in his face. "Ha ha! I knew it! You think you can trick Yuffie Kisaragi, Warrior Princess of Wutai, do you? Well, you better think again, Mr. Valentine! I am_ **_so_ ** _onto you."_

_For a long time, he just stares at her, wide-eyed. But then, slowly, his face softens and he smiles. "Yuffie," he says._

_Hearing him speak her name makes her stomach flip-flop, but she slaps on a grin before she can become a puddle of warm goo. "You called?" she chirps jokingly._

_He holds out a hand in response. She takes it and gives it a firm shake. His hand is cold, but his grip is strong._

_"It's very nice to meet you."_

xXx

Life, Yuffie had decided, was infinitely more interesting and more complicated than anything they had for sale at her place of employment. First case in point: the messed-up love story between her boss and her boyfriend's best friend. It had romance, betrayal, angst, and a killer plot twist, and no one knew yet what the ending would be. The last she had heard, things were looking up, but it wouldn't take much for her two favorite idiots to destroy their chances with each other yet again.

And then there was the second case in point.

"So, Yuffie, what do you think?"

Yuffie waved aside Demyx's question for the moment and reread the letter that she held in her hands.

**_Demyx -_ **

**_I do not know why you want to contact me, but from your recent actions, it seems that you do. I am enclosing a key to box 1369 at the local post office. If you can be stronger than Psyche, you may leave me letters there and I will respond to them._ **

**_Signed, Echo_ **

Sighing, Yuffie looked up into her friend's worried blue-green eyes and shrugged. "I think this guy likes his Greek myths," she replied, handing the paper back to Demyx who leaned against the counter opposite her. "Other than that, I don't know what to make of it."

With Demyx appeased for the moment, she took off her coat and actually went through the routine of checking in for work. Her excitable co-worker had attacked her the moment she walked in the doors and demanded that she give him her opinion on the newest development in his stalker saga. Thankfully, she had arrived about fifteen minutes early so Leon wouldn't have any reason to gripe at her.

Speaking of whom … "Where's the boss?" she asked, walking out of the back room where she had deposited her stuff.

Demyx lifted his head from the letter which he had been rereading. "Upstairs," he answered. "He said he had a bunch of phone calls to make and didn't want to do it here because it's rude to the customers." Delicately, he refolded the sheet of paper in his hands and fitted it back into its envelope before laying it down on the countertop.

"What customers?" Yuffie asked with a grin. The store was, for the moment, empty.

"Don't jinx it!" her friend sighed, running a tired hand through his hair. "We were swamped this morning. The high school had an in-service day, and I swear, _all_ the girls in town decided they just _had_ to drop by Mr. Leonhart's store to see if they could find something good to read." He shook his head, shoulders slumping. "I've never been hit on so much in my life. And _Leon_ … dear God …"

Yuffie laughed. "I can just imagine it." Spotting Demyx's baked goods for the day - mini-brownies - she snagged one and stuffed it in her mouth before walking over to pour herself some coffee. "But enough about silly schoolgirls who can't spot a gay guy with a roadmap," she said through a mouth of chocolate goodness. "I wanna know more about your mystery man. Are you going to write to him?" She tapped the envelope with one finger.

The musician lifted his head, apparently rejuvenated by the change in topic. "Absolutely. I really want to know who he is. I'm hoping that if I write to him and act all ordinary about it, he'll eventually feel comfortable enough to tell me about himself."

"Why?" she asked, leaning against the counter with her fresh cup of caffeine. "Why are you so interested in meeting him? He seems like a total weirdo to me."

A mild blush appeared on Demyx's cheeks. Yuffie raised an eyebrow at it but did not comment. "Because I'm an artist," he answered her. "I understand inspiration and how it can take hold of you and refuse to let go. I …" He paused, and the blush deepened. "I guess I'm curious as to what kind of person could be inspired by me. How I could be anyone's Muse. I just really want to talk to him."

The softness in his voice surprised her. She understood that he was no longer afraid of his admirer turning psycho on him, but this gentleness was something else entirely. It, combined with the blush, made her curious, and Yuffie was never one to let her curiosity stay unappeased for long.

Deciding to go the teasing route, she rolled her eyes and drawled, "Gawd, Demy, only you would fall for your stalker."

The blush vanished instantly, and a frown invaded Demyx's face. "Don't be ridiculous, Yuffie," he chastised her. "I haven't fallen for anyone." And his face informed her that he was telling the truth. Whatever emotion had softened his outlook towards this mythology buff-slash-photophile-slash-weirdo, it wasn't love.

Not yet.

"Okay, okay," she said, waving a hand in concession. "I take it back. Don't get mad at me."

"I'm not mad," he replied, his frown lifting. "I'm just …" His voice trailed off as his eyes locked on something outside of the window. Yuffie raised an eyebrow at him in question, but then she heard it: a quiet tapping noise. She turned to look just as Demyx rolled his eyes and released a long-suffering groan.

A pair of bright green eyes peered through the glass and into the store. They had a definite gleam and sparkle to them, a wild playfulness that bordered on madness and that gave the beautiful, young face in which they resided an unearthly, elfin look. Long, pale fingers ceased their tapping as the owner of the eyes realized he had been spotted, and instead they waved excitedly for a few seconds. Then, the newcomer had broken away, sprinting towards the door of the shop.

"Here comes trouble," Demyx commented grouchily. Yuffie only laughed and ran out from behind the counter in anticipation.

The door crashed open with a clatter of bells as the new arrival burst in, threw both arms forward, and cried, "Yuffie!"

"'Dajie!" she replied in exactly the same melodramatic tone, her arms extended as well. They rushed towards each other like lovers separated for lifetimes, and when they came together, he swept her up in his arms, dipped her expertly, and leaned down to plant a passionate kiss on her lips. At the last second, however, he slipped his hand over her mouth so that the two of them made out messily with his fingers instead of with each other.

Back at the counter, Demyx groaned at the pair of them. "Can't you two act your age?"

Kadaj lifted his head from the pretend smooch with a loud pop and grinned at Demyx. "I am acting my age," he replied, then promptly dropped Yuffie who fell with a shriek to the ground.

"Watch it, pretty boy," she griped, rubbing her backside which had hit the floor rather hard.

"Oh, Yuffie," Kadaj said innocently, his eyes wide and sweet. "Are you still here?"

Yuffie snarled at him and made a swipe at his legs which he dodged easily. In spite of appearances, she wasn't mad at him. It was all part of the game they played whenever they saw each other. A dance of sorts that they both cherished since it allowed them to be ludicrously silly while still remaining within the safe confines of established limits. Only once had Kadaj crossed the boundaries by "forgetting" to put his hand between them when they kissed. A well-placed crack across the head had ensured that he never forgot again.

Still on the floor, Yuffie watched as Kadaj abandoned her and went after Demyx, trying to get a rise out of the older blond by hanging on him as much as possible. Demyx didn't particularly like Kadaj, but then again, no one seemed to like or understand any of the Gast boys as much as Yuffie did. All four of them gave the impression of being shallow and fake. Loz was a bit of a bully, Yazoo was ridiculously aloof, Kadaj was manic, and Riku was a slut. And yet Yuffie knew that those showy, two-dimensional exteriors hid extremely complex and fragile young men who presented lies to the world so that the world would not have the chance to reject the truth. A more maternal woman probably would have tried to counsel them, get them to accept themselves and open up to others, but Yuffie didn't believe in butting into other people's lives like that. Instead, she let them know in no uncertain terms that they didn't fool her for a second but that she liked them anyway. And for that, all four Gast boys adored her.

After picking herself up off of the floor and dusting herself off, Yuffie wandered back to the counter where Demyx had successfully detached Kadaj from himself and distracted the younger blond with coffee and brownies before escaping into the back room. "So, whatcha doing here, 'Dajie?" she asked as she slipped back behind the counter to her post.

Caught in the middle of a drink of coffee, Kadaj shrugged one shoulder in reply. When his mouth was empty again, he answered, "Riku sent me."

"Riku?" Yuffie echoed, not expecting that. "Why?"

"Not supposed to tell you," the other replied as he pushed his index finger into a brownie. He flipped the finger upright, creating a kind of lollipop out of the treat, and carefully, began to eat it, making sure to keep all the sides even as he went. Now that Demyx had disappeared, Kadaj had calmed down considerably. At times like these, if she looked hard enough, Yuffie could just catch a glimpse of the real person the boy held inside. However, she definitely knew better than to say so and embarrass him.

"I'm supposed to be all sly and indirect," he continued between bites, "and get the answers from you without alerting your suspicion, but you know what?" He paused and gave her an honest, tired smile. "I don't feel like putting all that effort into it, you know?" The rest of the brownie disappeared into his mouth, and he spent the next minute or so sucking all the chocolate off his finger.

Yuffie placed her elbows on the counter and leaned in closer to him. "What answers?" she asked after it seemed that he had finished. "What's Riku so interested in knowing?"

Kadaj rolled his eyes, presumably at his younger brother. "About a week ago," he explained, "he was in here when there was some sort of blow-up between dear cousin Leon and a couple of kids. Riku wants to know about the kids. Names, ages, where they live, favorite food, favorite color, etc, etc, etc."

Yuffie's eyes narrowed at this revelation. "Did he say why?"

Kadaj gave her a pitying look. "Why does Riku ever want information on anyone?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm worried about." Frowning, she drummed her fingers on the counter as she considered. Yuffie had friends of all ages all over town, friends who liked to talk as much as she did, so she knew all about Riku's reputation. However, unlike most of the gossips, she also knew Riku, and she knew he wasn't as bad as everyone said. In addition, he wasn't stupid, and he knew what she would do to him if he fucked around with someone she cared about.

"Okay," she said, deciding on her course of action. Reaching down to beneath the cash register, she pulled out a blank invoice, flipped it over, and started writing on the back with a nearby pen.

_Sora and Roxas Strife. Age: 15. Hair: Sora-brown, Roxas-blond. Eyes: Blue._

"Hey," Kadaj protested mildly, "if you do that, he'll know I told you straight out."

"Yes, I know," she answered with an evil smile. "I'm counting on it."

_Father: Cloud Strife, friend of mine and Vincent's for many years, ex-boyfriend and current love interest of Leon_.

That should be more than enough warning. Nothing like the threat of extreme bodily harm from four angry adults to rein in a teenager's libido. Smiling to herself at the thought of Riku's reaction, Yuffie scribbled down the rest of the information, including their current address, the estimated time of their move here, and as many of their likes and dislikes as she could remember. When she had finished, she clicked the pen closed and handed the sheet to Kadaj with an overly innocent bat of eyelashes.

"Here you go."

Kadaj took the paper with a confused expression, but after he had scanned the first few lines, the mild frown morphed into a wild smirk. Taking a step away from the counter, he gave Yuffie a low, sweeping bow. "Thank you ever so much, my fairest of ladies. Please allow me to treat you to an elegant meal to show my gratitude."

"Sorry, Kadaj," she said, waving him off. "I'm not interested."

Kadaj straightened up and dropped the chivalrous act, assuming an expression of pure childishness instead. "Aw, come _on_ , Yuff. When are you going to dump that ice block and go out with me instead?"

Yuffie laughed, knowing that he was mostly kidding and choosing to ignore the small part that wasn't. "Ask me when you're legal, kiddo," she teased the seventeen-year-old. "Maybe then I'll think about it."

"Tch, whatever," Kadaj pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "I know one thing: I wouldn't run off and leave you for months at a time."

"Weeks at a time," she corrected gently. Smiling softly, she leaned over the counter and tried to catch his gaze. "But that's the difference between kids and adults, 'Dajie. Adults understand that sometimes we need to do what's best for our future, even if that means making our present a little less than perfect."

"That's so stupid," he returned heatedly. "I don't want to ever be an adult if it means I have to be an idiot."

"Oh, no worries there," she joked with a wink. "You'll always be a first-class brat." He stuck his tongue out at her in response, causing her to giggle, and soon they were both laughing, their brief argument forgotten.

"All right, I should go," Kadaj announced once their amusement had subsided. "I've fulfilled my end of the bargain -" He lifted the sheet of paper containing detailed information on the Strife twins and shook it slightly for emphasis. "- so it's time to see if Riku has fulfilled his end yet."

Yuffie smirked. "What's that?" she asked, suspecting that the younger boy had come out with the shorter end of the stick.

Kadaj shrugged. "Nothing much. Just all my chores for the week." He grinned at her, the mask of mischief once again firmly in place. "After all, I _love_ coming to see you guys." He raised his voice loud enough to be heard in the back room. "Especially Demyx!"

They both waited and, sure enough, a series of crashes rolled out from the back as Demyx either dropped or ran into something. Satisfied with a job well done, Kadaj turned and strode to the door, giving Yuffie one final smile and wave as he exited into the afternoon sunlight. Yuffie returned the gestures and then, shaking her head, wandered into the back room to help Demyx clean up whatever mess he had made.

xXx

"Hey, Demy?"

"What?"

"Which book do you think is funnier: _Click, Clack, Moo_ or _Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus_?"

" _Philadelphia Chickens_."

Yuffie paused in her task of reshelving scattered children's books to turn to the blond sitting a few feet away, performing the same job on a different shelf. The store had just closed for the day, and the two had decided to start their cleanup duties in the place that always seemed to be messiest no matter the day or time. "Okaaay," she said in response, frowning a bit in confusion, "that makes sense considering your obsession with music, but it wasn't one of the choices."

"Don't care," Demyx replied casually. He pulled out a few titles that had been replaced upside-down and righted them again. "It's the funniest album ever. Boynton rocks."

"True, but there are no pigs or hippos in the equation I'm presenting. Just cows and pigeons. So pick one."

"Chickens."

Yuffie sighed and moved a copy of _Goodnight Moon_ so it was before _The Runaway Bunny_ and not after. Raising her voice, she called, "Leeeeeon!"

"I'm busy, Yuffie," her boss's voice growled back from the front.

"But I just want your opinion! Cold, literate cows or a spastic, vehicle-obsessed pigeon?"

"I _said_ I'm busy!"

Yuffie blinked. Then, oh so slowly, a little evil smile spread over her face. In reality, it wasn't her fault. She was sitting in the children's section, and Demyx had just mentioned Sandra Boynton. It was totally Leon's fault. He really should have known better.

Rising to her feet, Yuffie turned her back to the shelves, placed one hand on her breastbone, held the other out in a classic stage pose, took a huge breath, and sang, "Weeeeeeeee're very very busy and we've got a lot to do and we haven't got a minute to explain it all to you for on SundayMondayTuesday there are people we must see and on WednesdayThursdayFriday we're as busy as can be with our most important meetings and our most important calls and we have to do so many things and post them on the walls!"

To her delight, Demyx chipped in as the background singers. "With our most important meetings and our most important calls and we have to do so many things and post them on the walls!"

"Oh dear God …"

Completely ignoring Leon's pained groan, Yuffie pulled Demyx to his feet and began dragging him around as she sang the first verse. "Theeeeeeeeen we have to hurry to the south and then we hurry north and we're talking every minute as we hurry back and forth and we have to hurry to the east and then we hurry west and we're talking every minute and we don't have time to rest -" Twirling on her heel, she faced him, grabbed both hands in hers, and with an anxious, hurried face declared, " - and we have to do it _faster_ or it never will be done and we have no time for listening or anything that's fun!"

"And we have to do it faster or it never will be done and we have no time for listening or anything that's fun!" Demyx agreed. Then, they both took large breaths and attacked the chorus together.

"Fooooooooor we're very very busy and we've got a lot to do and we haven't got a minute to explain it all to you for on SundayMondayTuesday there are people we must see and on WednesdayThursdayFriday we're as busy as can be -"

"I'm impressed with your self-restraint, Leon. I would have throttled them both and dumped their bodies in a ditch by now."

Yuffie froze, oblivious to Demyx who had continued singing. The voice had not been loud or insistent, but it didn't need to be. That voice, no matter how soft, would always find its way directly to her heart.

"Well," Leon was replying, "it's less about self-restraint than it is about damage control. Corpses are such a pain to get rid of."

"That's true, I suppose."

When had he come in? Why hadn't she heard the bells? Was he really there at all? Mesmerized by disbelief and hope, Yuffie turned, Demyx's hands falling from her grip. He had stopped singing as well and now watched her with a wide smile. She barely noticed him as she walked forward, lost in a mild daze, navigating through the shelves on instinct. Leon had continued to talk, but she paid no attention to the words. Instead, she moved, slowly but steadily, towards the voice that for the first time in almost a month, she had heard without the assistance of a phone.

She emerged from the shelving, and there he was. Hands in the pockets of his long black coat, open in spite of the pre-winter chill to reveal a navy business suit, complete with jacket and tie. His eyes were already on her, as if waiting for her, and he wore that small, gentle smile that she both loved and hated at the same time. The outside winds had messed up his hair, painfully short now that he had a corporate job, but still long enough that his tousled bangs fell slightly into his eyes. He was still as handsome, striking, and sad as the first day she had met him all those years ago.

"Hello, Yuffie," he said.

"Vin," she replied. "I wasn't expecting you for another week."

His smile broadened, but only a little. There always seemed to be a limit on those smiles. "I wanted to surprise you."

She smiled then, giving in to the happiness since she knew he wouldn't, and crossed to him. She didn't run; crazy dramatics like that were better suited for Kadaj and those like him. Vincent was special. He was complicated and skittish, and she didn't want to scare him. When they were being casual and among friends, she felt comfortable being herself, but when the situation called for intimacy, she knew enough about him to rein in her frantic side and stay calm and serious. Besides, who wanted to tell jokes and goof around when you could be kissing?

Vincent's soft brown eyes stayed locked on hers as she approached. He had pulled his hands from his pockets, but he did not reach for her. He never did. She always had to initiate everything. Literally everything. It didn't bother her. She was used to it by now.

Her body pushed his coat to the sides as she stepped right up to him, tilting her head back since he was so much taller. As she reached up and pulled his face down to her, she couldn't help but smile at how good he looked in a suit, even without his beautiful hair. Then, their lips met, and all thoughts fled before the joy of being with him. She kissed him with a passion bordering on desperation, and he responded in kind, circling his arms around her waist and pulling her to him, nearly engulfing her small frame in his large coat. She had begun it, but he willingly rose to her challenge, meeting her level of emotion and driving it higher. The fingers digging into her back and the mouth trying to drink her in like an elixir told her in a way no words ever could that she had not pined and suffered alone.

When they finally reluctantly broke apart, Yuffie buried her face in his neck and tried to get as much of his scent into her lungs as possible. " _God_ , Vin," she whispered, "I missed you so much."

"Yes," he replied from somewhere behind her left ear, the oddball answer the closest thing she'd ever get to a 'Me, too.' Still holding tightly to her, he turned them both so that he could look at Leon and asked, "When does she get off of work?"

"Now," Leon replied, his uncaring, casual tone ruined by the half-smile on his face. "Take her. I'll probably get more done without her anyway." He pretended to go back to cashing out the register, still smiling.

"Where's your coat?" Vincent asked her, straightening a little.

"In the back," Yuffie answered. She knew he expected her to go get it, but she really didn't want to let go of him right now and she tightened her grip to emphasize that point.

Vincent sighed at her and made to comment, but thankfully Demyx, who was peeking around a shelf at them with a huge grin on his face, jumped out and cried, "I'll get it!" He raced towards the counter, flew around it in a tight turn, and sped into the back, nearly knocking his boss over in his haste to get there.

"Demyx! Would you please try not to kill me?"

"Sorry, Leon!"

Yuffie started to giggle at them but stopped when she felt her boyfriend's breath tickling the back of her neck.

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked, the words traveling down her spine in a warm gust of air and then back up again in a cool shiver.

"Mmm-mmm," she hummed in negative.

"Good. I'm taking you out. Where do you want to go?"

"Hmm …" She gently fingered the tie at his throat, tracing a path down its length to where it disappeared beneath his buttoned suit jacket. "I'd say somewhere fancy and expensive, but they probably wouldn't let me in dressed like this." 'Like this' happened to be a green turtleneck sweater and a pair of jeans.

Vincent chased that argument away by saying, "Then let's stop by your place first. You can change, and I'll take you to The Laurel Inn."

"Ooo," Yuffie breathed in appreciation. She could count the number of times she had been in that super-high-class restaurant on one hand. "You, mister, have got yourself a deal." She grinned up at him and found him smiling back, that same quiet smile he always wore but thankfully without the shadow of sadness that sometimes haunted it.

"Here, Yuff, your coat." Demyx had reappeared, bouncing on his toes as he held it out for her to take. She did so with a wide grin, and he winked before skipping back to Leon who was _still_ smiling. A moment later, she was exiting the store into the night, feeling happier than she had in weeks and knowing that her happiness had spilled over to give a bit of extra to the two men she had left behind. Two men whose own quests for happiness weren't going particularly well at the moment. It felt good to be able to share with them and make them smile.

Walking arm-in-arm with Vincent down the sidewalk towards her apartment, Yuffie considered. Life was certainly interesting and complicated, and sometimes it was difficult and discouraging. In her case, however, as long as she had her beautiful, broody vampire, she knew that things would turn out okay and that it would be worth living. And that, she supposed, was what love was all about.


	11. Vincent

_Shock. Complete and total shock, unlike anything he's ever felt before. It grips him in its cold steely fingers and simply will not let go._

_"That's not to say I don't like you, but just as a friend, you know? Actually with a little bit of time and effort, I think we could be really good friends."_

_Her words crash against him. Slapping, stinging, every one. How is it possible that mere words can cause such pain? How can it be that his words failed to reach her? How can someone just_ **_say_ ** _something like that?_

_"So that's that taken care of," she finishes with a business-like edge to her tone. Flashing him a smile, she asks, "Were you on your way to dinner? We can walk together if you like."_

_He is still frozen, unable to move, barely able to breathe. "But …" he whispers, forcing her to lean a little closer to hear. "But … I love you."_

_She sighs, frowns. "So you said. Now, are you coming or not?"_

_Nothing is working. Not his hands, not his legs. His heart feels like it has stopped completely, no longer beating, no longer alive. His mind stalls, caught in a loop, repeating the same words over and over and over._

_"I … I … love you …"_

_"I heard you the first time, Vincent. I'm not deaf." She places a hand on her hip, gives him a hard stare. "Look, I'm flattered, all right? But I don't feel the same way. And it wouldn't work anyway. You're a freshman. I'm a senior. The age gap is too great. This time next year, I plan to be interning in a cutting-edge lab, working my way towards being allowed to conduct my own research. You'll still be here. It's_ **_not_ ** _going to work, so please, just let it go."_

_He is still staring, still caught by that moment in time when his confession failed and his happiness shattered. She gazes at him for a moment before sighing and turning her back on him._

_"I'm going to dinner. I'll see you around, Vincent."_

_She walks away._

_His eyes watch her go, watch her long ponytail sway as she walks, watch her hike her bag back onto her shoulder when it slips, watch her walk farther and farther away._

_"Lucrecia …"_

_Sensation returns like a thunderclap. Anger, white, hot. Pain, red, raw. His hands clench into fists, fingernails digging deep. His lungs draw in wild, ragged breaths, the air suddenly heavy and burning. His heart is a million knives, tearing gashes in his chest. His body is a blistering inferno of rage and despair._

_He raises his head and screams, drawing stares from every student within a fifty-foot radius._

_"_ **_Lucrecia!_ ** _"_

_She does not even pause._

_He turns on his heel and flees, not caring where he runs as long as it is away. All the while, her words hound him like a flock of harpies bound on tearing out his soul. I don't feel the same way. It's not going to work. Let it go._

_'I love you' hadn't been enough._

_Tears sting his eyes as he runs on and on._

**_I will never say those words to anyone ever again_ ** _._

xXx

When Vincent's company had first hired him, a woman had taken him around the office and introduced him to all his co-workers. "So you can get to know everyone," she had said, although to him it seemed more like an opportunity for them to ask him personal questions that were none of their business. He had endured them, however, up to the point where one particularly nosy man had asked if he had a girlfriend and, upon hearing that he had, asked if she was a looker. Vincent had responded with a stare that had made him instantly famous company-wide. Some of the females had named it the Ball Burner and claimed it could cause a set of testicles to dry up and fall off with pinpoint accuracy from a range of twenty feet.

Had he been inclined to answer such a private question, Vincent would have said that no, Yuffie was not a looker. She was pretty to be sure with a youthful energy unlike any other, and he was particularly fond of her dark eyes and that smile that could light up a room without fail. However, in spite of the number of times he had lost himself in bed with her, he would not classify her as sexy, certainly not in the way in which that man had meant.

Tonight, Yuffie was a looker. The dress was simple with a clean silhouette that successfully drew the eye away from her small chest and narrow hips and to her lovely face and shapely legs instead. And instead of the customary black or a provocative red, it was a deep blue that made every move appear more sophisticated than it was. She looked elegant, classy, and every inch the princess she always claimed to be. If she had chosen to use that line on him right then, Vincent just may have believed her, even though he knew that Wutai and its entire royal bloodline were just figments of her active imagination.

"So," she asked, reaching for a bite of his entrée, "how long are you going to be around this time?"

He pushed his plate towards her to make it easier for her to reach before replying, "Only a few days. A client requested an emergency meeting next week. I volunteered to do it in exchange for skipping the presentation tomorrow."

"Which is why you're here tonight," she finished, sticking the bite into her mouth. "But seriously," she added with a frown, "only a few days? That sucks."

Feeling the all-too-familiar stirrings of guilt and regret, he lowered his gaze from her unhappy face. "I'm sorry," he murmured. He hated disappointing her. It always made his chest hurt to see the hope in her eyes die away.

She waved his apology away, not caring about the fork that was still in her hand. "Pfft, don't be. It's not like you're the only person in the world with a job that requires traveling. Lots of couples have to deal with distance all the time, and they manage. Hey, I told you about Demyx and this guy sending him pictures, right? Well, today when I came into work …"

It was a pretty obvious attempt to change the subject and steer the conversation away from depressing things, but Vincent appreciated her efforts. She had told him more than once that she hated seeing him brood, especially if it was over her. Neither pleading nor threats had been able to stop it, however, so now she resorted to seizing hold of any conversation that had any "brooding potential" as she called it and forcing it in a different direction. Most nights, he would let her take the reins without complaint, but tonight was different. Tonight, he would eventually have to take that control back. For now though, she could chatter happily and he would just listen and enjoy this moment while it lasted.

While Yuffie told him about her day and all the nuances of all the soap opera dramas that were occurring within one small bookstore, dinner progressed as usual. Dessert came next, and finally Vincent was sipping the last of his coffee and trying to savor the last few seconds of blissful ignorance. Across from him, Yuffie was trying to daintily and discreetly scoop the tiny bits of chocolate sauce left on her cake plate onto her fork, her pretty face wrinkled in intense concentration. Vincent smiled at her. If they were at home, he knew she would have been attacking that chocolate with her fingers, and the fact that she couldn't was obviously frustrating her. He watched for another moment and then, sighing, decided to cease his procrastination, if only to prevent her from giving up, picking up that plate, and licking it like a child.

"Yuffie."

At the sound of her name, her dark eyes flicked to him on instinct. They flicked away again almost as quickly, but a moment later they were back, a little wider than normal from the surprise at seeing him so serious. "Yes?"

"I need to tell you something. About my job." He tried to keep his voice normal, but as the words left his mouth, they sounded hollow to his ears. He supposed, sadly, that they couldn't help but match the hollowness in his chest.

Noticing his reluctance to speak, Yuffie carefully put the fork down and folded her hands on the table. "Okay," she encouraged. "What about it?"

He inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly, and spoke. "There's a managerial position opening up within the company. I've been recommended for it, and popular talk is that I'll get it."

As expected, she smiled brightly in response. After all, on the surface, this was good news. "That's awesome, Vin!" she said. "You totally deserve it. You always work so hard." Her expression turned a little contemplative, and a moment later, she asked the question he had known was coming. "Does it involve as much travel as your current job?"

"No, it doesn't," he answered, feeling his body numbing from the inside out. "But it does involve relocating."

She blinked, tipped her head to the side a little in anxious curiosity. "Relocating? To where?"

He told her. Her lips parted slightly as her jaw loosened and dropped. "Shit, Vin," she whispered after a long, tense moment. "That's practically the other side of the country."

"I know."

In his heart, he had always known that this would happen. What he and Yuffie had was beautiful and very precious to him, but he had known from the start that it wouldn't last. In the end, she would leave him. That was simply how it was. And now, it seemed, was the time. So, to combat the eventual pain, he had decided to embrace the numbness, close off his heart, and take the initiative.

His gaze rested on her face but did not see it as he said dully, "If they offer me the job, I'm going to take it. I want it. It's a perfect move for my career. However, I know that everything and everyone you care about is here, so I'm not going to ask you to choose between that and me."

"Vincent …"

"If you want it," he pushed forward, ignoring her attempt to comment, "you can have your freedom. I'll be happy to give it to you. I'm sure that you wouldn't be single for long if you didn't want to be -"

"Okay, stop!" Yuffie cried, loud enough that the diners at nearby tables looked over. "Time out!" The expensive plates and tableware jumped and clattered a little as she slapped her hands down and leaned towards him, fire blazing from her eyes. "Vincent," she said darkly, "are you dumping me?"

_Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing_. But he couldn't say it. Not with her looking at him like that. He didn't _want_ to dump her, but he had to. Before she left him. "I … I'm offering you your freedom."

"Well, keep it," she snapped, sitting back in her chair again. "'Cause I don't want it."

"But …" He swallowed the thickness in his throat and tried again. "But these long periods where I'm away are hard enough on you as it is. If I get this promotion, it won't be weeks where I don't see you. It'll be months."

"Unless I come with you," she countered easily. "Yes, my job and my friends are here, but you're the one I love. I followed you once before when I transferred here for my last two years of college. I can follow you again."

The thickness had returned; he swallowed it down again. She was holding on, fighting him, and he had partially expected that, but he had to be sure if he was going to let go and trust in her. He had to push.

"I really think you should stay here and move on with your life. I mean, if you think about it, this relationship isn't going to work. We should just let it go now."

Yuffie's eyes widened, and an expression of angry disbelief took over her face. "Ohhh," she breathed lowly, "you did not just say that." She leaned forward again, this time crossing her arms on the table in front of her. "Did you forget, Valentine, that I have an entire speech prepared for that statement? Do you really want me to go through it again?"

_Please. I need to hear it_. But he kept his face blank so as not to influence her. He wanted her to say it because she meant it, not because she knew he wanted her to say it.

With a level gaze and a firm voice, Yuffie stated, "There is absolutely no point in telling me it won't work because you don't know that until we give it a try. If we end up having problems, we'll solve them as we hit them, and we _won't_ worry about them ahead of time. We'll take the rough patches as they come, and if we end up breaking up anyway, then at least we'll have given it our best shot. There's no way I'm letting you out of my life without even trying." She paused, cocked an eyebrow at him in amusement. "Do you remember what I told you when I decided you were going to be my boyfriend?"

Vincent smiled in spite of himself as the memory returned. "Resistance is useless."

"Exactly!" she replied, triumphant. "And that was just when I liked you because I thought you were cute. Now, I'm in love with you which means you're stuck, Valentine, so you'd better get used to it."

The numbness had fled, leaving his body hot and tingling with the sudden influx of emotion. She had scoffed at all his fears, effortlessly batted away the nightmares that still haunted him. This woman was unlike any other he had ever met, and this feeling he held for her was stronger and deeper than anything he had ever experienced. As he met and held her gaze across the table, he felt it flare and rage within him, sending hot shocks of want and need spiraling through his body - radiating out from his chest, dancing along his skin, and reaching all the way to the tips of his toes and fingers.

Yuffie noticed immediately. With a knowing smirk, she commented, "Looks like I woke up the beast. And I wasn't even trying to this time." She motioned calmly to the little padded folder that the waiter had left for them. "Pay the check and let's get out of here. Your place since mine's a mess." The smirk widened into a grin, and she winked at him flirtatiously.

Five minutes later, they exited the restaurant into a biting autumn wind. Yuffie started walking away immediately, but Vincent stopped her a few steps away from the door with a hand around her wrist. Confusion was evident on her face, but she let him draw her to him and partly wrap her inside his coat.

Vincent held Yuffie's small body against himself and shut his eyes. He wanted to give her this. She deserved it after all she had endured for his sake. "Yuffie, I …" His voice stalled, so he swallowed, tried again. "I …"

The damn words stuck, just like they always did. He wanted to say them to her, but they wouldn't come no matter how hard he tried. It was as if _she_ were holding them back, laughing at him for his futility, for thinking that those words could change anything.

_Damn it! Damn it all!_

He was gritting his teeth, damn near screaming in frustration, when a pair of soft, warm hands slid along both sides of his face and shocked him into opening his eyes. Yuffie gazed up at him, understanding clear in her face.

"It's okay," she told him. "You don't have to say it."

"But I …" _I want to; I just can't._

"It's okay," she repeated. "You're not ready. That's fine. I'll just wait until you are."

"It's been four years," he protested with a surge of guilt.

"Since I bullied you into dating me, sure," she replied cheerfully, "but you've only been in love with me for about a year and a half." When his eyes widened at her in surprise, she laughingly explained, "You don't have to say the words for me to know. I can tell. In the way you look at me or in the little things you do. So it's okay, Vin. I'll wait." Her grin softened into a gentler smile. "I mean, you haven't even told me the name of the bitch who broke your heart. Let's start with that and work our way to 'I love you', okay?"

He blinked, surprised. "How did you know?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, come on, Valentine. Give me some credit. You don't kiss me unless I kiss you first, you almost never touch me on your own, and the mere thought of the 'L' word sends you into a cold sweat. Obviously _someone_ screwed with you before I came along to brighten up your life." Smiling, she winked again and added, "It's not rocket science, you know. Just love."

Vincent gazed down in wonder at the woman in his arms. This loud, crazy, childish, stubborn, caring, intelligent, sensitive, beautiful, and all-around amazing woman - she was his. All his. For as long as he wanted her. And he wanted her. To fill the terrible hollowness in his chest and melt the cold numbness once and for all.

_Kiss me_ , his eyes begged as he gazed at her. _Please, kiss me_.

And a heartbeat later, she did.

xXx

The first thing Vincent noticed when he approached the familiar townhouse was the turkey in the window. It had a hat on, one of those Pilgrim types with the gold buckle, and it was staring out at him with big, goggle-eyes as if begging to be freed. The second thing he noticed, as he was contemplating the bizarre existence of the turkey, was the noise. There seemed to be at least four people in the house, and they were all shouting at each other from different locations. Occasionally, he would hear a thump or bang, followed by more yelling. It was almost enough to convince him to turn around and go back to the airport for seven hours, but in the end, he went ahead and rang the doorbell.

After two more rings, quite a bit more yelling, some more crashes, and a bit of swearing, the door opened, revealing a very disheveled-looking Cloud. The blond's hair was an utter mess, sweaty and rumpled, and he had two prominent streaks of dirt on his face. His posture screamed of exhaustion and frustration, and his eyes were blank and empty as he gazed at his friend.

"Vincent," he said after several moments of silence.

"Cloud," Vincent returned in a similar voice. He lifted a hand and pointed. "There's a turkey in your window."

"What?" Cloud's brow furrowed in brain-dead confusion, and he leaned forward to look in the window from outside of the house, one hand holding onto the doorframe to keep him from falling over completely. "Oh," he said after a moment. "That. Tifa gave us that as a going-away present since our new house has a lawn bigger than a postage stamp."

"I see," Vincent replied, gently taking hold of Cloud's shoulder and pushing him backwards until he was upright again. "Thanksgiving was last week, though."

"Yeah, I know," his friend agreed. "But the boys insisted." He blinked at the older man a few times as his brain seemed to restart itself. "What are you doing here?" he finally asked.

"Stop-over. My next flight doesn't leave until six." When Cloud glanced at his bare wrist and then began to look around in lost confusion, Vincent smiled and supplied, "It's eleven now. I thought I'd take you out to lunch."

"Oh," Cloud said again, still hanging onto the doorframe like a lifeline. "Don't know if Tifa will let me. Why didn't you call?"

"I did. Many times. And I left you two messages."

The blond blinked some more. "You did?" He lurched backwards into the house, leaving the door wide open. Vincent waited half a minute for an invitation and then walked in anyway. Instantly, the noise and Cloud's half-dead state made perfect sense. There were boxes _everywhere_. Some were open and half-filled; others were already shut, taped, and labeled. All of the furniture had been shoved to one corner of the room to make space, and it looked as if some of the upstairs furniture was now downstairs. It was complete and total chaos.

"Dad!" a young voice called down from the second floor landing. "Are you sure you don't know where my other cleat is?"

Cloud had retreated to the mess of furniture and was rooting around through the loose junk on the tables. "Roxas," he called back, "you asked me that thirty seconds ago! No, I don't know where it is; no, I'm not going to drop everything else to look for it; and yes, you're definitely old enough to be able to keep track of your own goddamn footwear!"

"Cloud!" a female voice chided from the dining room. "Don't swear at your children!"

"They're my goddamn children, and I will swear at them as much as I want." Half of the contents of the table tumbled to the ground as Cloud banged it in frustration. "Where's the fucking phone?" he hissed to himself, low enough so that Tifa wouldn't hear. Then, he bellowed, "Sora! Roxas! Where's the phone?"

"Uh, I think I packed it," Sora called down from farther away.

"You packed it?" Cloud echoed in disbelief. "You _packed_ the _phone_?"

"You've got your cell," Roxas replied in defense of his twin. His footsteps faded away as he, presumably, resumed the hunt for his other shoe.

Vincent half-smiled in sympathy as Cloud collapsed onto the couch. Never in all the years they had known each other had he seen his best friend in such desperate need of a distraction. Vincent had walked next to Cloud through all of the other man's hard times just as Cloud had walked with Vincent through his own heart's troubles. Whenever one man began to sink too far into the waves of depression and self-destruction, the other would step up and act as an anchor to life and reality, making sure that they did not drown. But this was not a trip into despair or a painful reliving of the past; this was an attack of frenzied, frazzled stress that threatened the possibility of insanity.

Gently, the dark-haired man cleared his throat until bleary blue eyes turned his way.

"Vincent," Cloud stated.

"Cloud," Vincent returned. "I'm taking you out. Go upstairs and get a shower."

"But Tifa …"

"I'll take care of Tifa. Go."

Slowly Cloud struggled to his feet and made his way to the stairs. Once he had made enough progress to satisfy Vincent, the older man turned and entered the dining room. The scene that greeted him in this room could not have been more different. All of the furniture had been neatly pushed to one wall, chairs stacked on the table like a restaurant after hours, and the boxes were likewise stacked carefully and cleanly. Only one box stood open, resting next to the open china cabinet, and into this box, a kneeling Tifa was laying a bubble-wrapped object that could have been one of Aerith's crystal vases. Next to Tifa lay the large roll of bubble-wrap, a pair of scissors, and a single roll of tape.

"Not another step," the woman's voice stopped him before he could move from the doorway. "I already told you: no males are to set a single foot in this room."

"Ah," Vincent breathed in understanding. "I see. That's why this is the only room that doesn't look like a typhoon just blew through."

Tifa looked up sharply at the unexpected voice. "Vincent!" she cried with a growing smile. "When did you get here? Oh, wait. You were the doorbell?"

"Yes."

"Here on a stop-over?"

"Yes. I was planning on taking Cloud out to lunch."

"Oh, please do," the brunette groaned, lifting another vase out of the cabinet. "I swear, I have never met three more incompetent men in my life. I'm just about ready to kick the shit out of somebody, and since I don't believe in beating up kids, it's not looking too good for Cloud right now." Resting the vase on her knee for the moment, she looked up at Vincent and asked, sighing, "Did I hear right? Sora packed the phone?"

"It looks that way," he replied.

She shook her head and sighed again. "Incompetent," she muttered. Then, to him, she continued, "Guess what I found Cloud doing earlier this morning. He was upstairs, packing his clothes. Not just his summer things, oh no. He was packing _everything_. He was packing his _underwear_ for God's sake. In a _box_! The truck isn't coming until the weekend! And when I asked him just what the hell he was planning on wearing until then, he just gave me that look, you know. The one where he scratches his head and kind of looks blankly at you. And then he looked down at himself like he was going to wear the same clothes for five days." Tifa threw her hands up in exasperation and then went back to packing the crystal. "Take him," she ordered. "Take all three of them if you want. I'll get more done and with less drama if I do it all myself."

"Just Cloud, thank you."

"Fine. The boys at least know what and what not to pack. Their problem is that they can't _find_ anything. Stupid, incompetent males …" She trailed off into angry muttering as she worked, and Vincent left her to both, returning to the safety of the main room.

When Cloud reappeared, face and hair clean and body clad in fresh, if slightly-damp, clothes, Vincent quickly ushered him out the door and into the car he had rented for the day. A quick drive and half a plate of nachos later, the younger man had revived considerably. As they finished off their appetizer and waited for their sandwiches, Vincent let his friend talk about the upcoming move and ask him small questions about his latest business trip. Once the second round of food arrived, however, Vincent took hold of the conversation himself and informed Cloud all about the possible promotion and the move it would entail.

"Wow," Cloud commented once Vincent had finished. "And what does Yuffie think of all this?"

Vincent flinched a little. He supposed he should not be surprised that the other's first thoughts had been of his girlfriend's reaction. After all, they had been together a long time, long enough for Yuffie's father to start hinting about grandchildren. But the whole reason Vincent had sought Cloud out was to talk about Yuffie and the problems that this promotion would create. To have Cloud bring her up so casually stung a little and filled Vincent with an irrational desire to not talk about her anymore.

Fighting through it, he answered, "She's not overly concerned. She thinks I should take it, and she's talking about following me out there."

Cloud smiled a little. "That sounds like her," he offered. "She's the type that, once she finds something she wants, will grab on and refuse to let go no matter what. Kind of like a little kid, but, you know, stronger."

"Cloud," Vincent cut in, his voice low, "I tried to break up with her."

His friend paused, eyes widening, and took a moment to process this. When he spoke again, his voice had hardened with a sudden seriousness. "So," he said, "you still don't trust her completely."

"No." In spite of anything that Tifa may have thought, Vincent knew that Cloud was not incompetent. Perhaps he did not know the best way to ready his house for a move, but when it came to a man's heart, Cloud knew exactly how to read and interpret each slice and scar. Probably, Vincent thought sadly, because he had so many scars himself. "I want to, but I can't seem to succeed."

Cloud picked up a potato chip and examined it as if it held all the answers. Thoughtfully, he commented, "Most people would say to give it time, but you've already been together … what? Four years?"

"Yes."

"Yeah. Time isn't the issue here."

"No," Vincent agreed, lowering his eyes to his sandwich. "The issue is _her_."

He didn't need to elaborate. Cloud didn't know very much - only that a woman in Vincent's past had made him hesitant and wary towards love and relationships. Similarly, Vincent knew almost nothing about the pain in Cloud's past - only that he had loved, not his wife, but another man at his previous college. Still, those bare facts were enough for both of them. Neither had offered or asked for any extra information about the other; they did not need to know the details to support each other.

The potato chip met its demise with a crunch as did several others before Cloud spoke again. "I wish I could tell you to forget and move on, but I haven't exactly figured out how to do it myself." His lips twisted into a little self-deprecating smile. "So since that obvious and rather useless piece of advice is out, I'll have to offer you something else." His eyes shifted and met Vincent's with a strong stare. "Correct me if I'm wrong," he said quietly, "but your problem with Yuffie isn't a lack of belief that she loves you but more the fear that her love will eventually fade and she'll get tired of you and leave you. Right?"

Vincent swallowed, surprised in spite of himself that Cloud could connect the dots so quickly and present such a clear, raw picture of his heart. "Yes," he murmured, somehow returning the blond's gaze.

"I really don't think this 'Push her away and see if she'll go' strategy you've been following will work," Cloud continued. "And I don't think it'll help you believe in her either. We both know that pushing her only causes her to tighten her grip." He cocked his head a little and regarded the older man with a small smile. "I think," he stated, "that if you really want to trust her completely, you need to trust her a little. For example, does she know about _her_?"

"No," Vincent answered, "but she's correctly guessed that there was someone."

"Then start there," the younger man advised. "See what her reaction is and if it helps you believe that she won't just up and leave you somewhere down the road." He picked up his sandwich and, just before taking a bite, concluded, "And that's my advice, for whatever it's worth."

Vincent nodded and began to eat his own sandwich, even though he had little appetite for it. Cloud's conclusions and advice matched exactly with his own thoughts. He had wanted to hear what his friend would say before taking any action, but now it seemed that his plan was set. It didn't make him feel better, however; on the contrary, he felt nervous and slightly sick. What _would_ Yuffie say when he told her that the reason he couldn't open up and love her was because he had loved another woman so deeply that her rejection had ripped all traces of the emotion from him? Would she understand or would she roll her eyes at him and tell him to grow up? Would she be willing to wait for him to slowly work his way to her, or would she write him off as a lost cause and finally let go? In a way, this "strategy" as Cloud had called it was riskier and more terrifying than simply pushing her away because he really had no idea how it would turn out.

"Hey, Vince?"

He looked up to find Cloud looking at him, the pensive expression back on his face. When he saw that he had the older man's attention, the blond continued, "I just have one more thing to say, and then I promise I'll drop it." He waited for Vincent to nod and then said, "Whatever you decide to do - about the job, Yuffie, or whatever - just try not to end up like me. To be perfectly honest, I don't understand how the two of you work, but you do. Yuffie's good for you, and you're good for her. Don't just give something like that up because it's really hard to get it back. I don't want to see you suffer the way I have." He grinned slightly. "I mean, we've both suffered enough to last the rest of our lives, right?"

Vincent couldn't help the smile that took over his face. "You've been listening to Tifa again, haven't you?"

Cloud laughed and reached for his soda. "Guilty as charged." While Vincent chuckled at him, he sipped at his drink for a moment, then broke out into a wide grin. "Did you really try to break up with Yuffie?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I offered her her freedom."

Cloud snorted. "I bet she told you exactly where you could stick that suggestion."

"Well," Vincent admitted, his smile deepening, "she didn't say it in so many words, but I believe that was the gist of her speech."

"And then you made up and went back to your place and had hot, passionate sex, right?" the blond finished with a smirk. "How many times?"

Vincent didn't answer. He was too busy turning bright red.

"By that shade," his tormentor mused after a moment, "I'd say three times. Am I right?"

"Cloud?"

"Yes?"

"I thought you were going to drop it."

His best friend just laughed.

xXx

That night, after checking into his room at the hotel, unpacking his suitcase, and making sure that none of his suits needed to be ironed, Vincent sat down in the armchair by the window and called Yuffie.

"Heya, lover!" she greeted upon answering the phone. "How are ya? How was your flight?"

"It was fine," he replied. Slowly, he drew in a breath and let it go again. If he was going to do this, he would have to do it quickly. He could feel himself beginning to panic, could feel the hand that wasn't holding the phone curling against the arm of the chair, tensing like a claw. "Yuffie, I want to talk to you about something."

"Sure," she chirped, not understanding, "I have things to tell you, too. Emmy had her baby shower today, and it was so much fun! … Move, lard-butt! … That's the cat, by the way, Vin. Not you. He's sitting in my spot on the couch. … Don't meow at me, tubbo. I just fed you ten minutes ago -"

" _Lucrecia_."

Yuffie paused, shocked by Vincent's outburst. "What?"

Vincent deliberately inhaled and exhaled again, forced himself to calm down. "Lucrecia," he repeated in a quieter voice. "That's the name of the bitch who broke my heart. Although she wasn't really a bitch. Just … cold."

"Wait a minute," Yuffie said, cutting him off before he could get too far. He heard the yowl of her cat, Leviathan, being shoved off of the couch, and then she spoke again, sounding oddly calm and serious. "Okay, go ahead."

Vincent talked, and Yuffie listened, asking questions here and there when she needed clarification. He told her everything, from their first meeting to that terrible moment when his confession was tossed aside with barely a glance. It came out haltingly and with difficulty - it had been years since he had even spoken Lucrecia's name - but he managed to say everything he had wanted to say and even a few things he hadn't planned on. And when it was done, he sat there, drained, and waited for Yuffie to respond.

For a minute or so, she said nothing. Then, to Vincent's great surprise, she said, simply, "Thank you."

"What?" he rasped, his voice having gone dry and weak from all the talking.

"Thank you," she repeated. "Thank you for telling me all that." Her voice sounded slightly thick, as if some time during his story she had begun to cry. "For the longest time," she continued, "I've felt that you've only been showing me pieces of yourself. And while what you shared was enough for me to love you, I've always felt that if you let me see the rest, that if you let me see the whole picture instead of just the pieces, I could love you even more. Now that you have, I know I was right. I can love you more, I _do_ love you more, and I think, as time goes on, it's going to get even stronger." She paused a moment to sniffle, and when she spoke again, she sounded slightly angry. "Lucrecia may not have been a bitch, but she was an idiot," she proclaimed. "She was so stupid not to recognize how wonderful you are. But you know what? I'm glad she was stupid because that means I got to have you instead. And I'm not letting go of you. I don't care how many promotions you get or where you have to move to. I'm not letting go of you. You hear me, Vincent? I'm not."

Dazed and more than a bit overwhelmed, Vincent had to work for a moment to find enough voice to answer, "… I hear you."

"Good." Instantly, her voice changed, and the familiar chirp was back. "Now, I'm going to chatter for a bit because, while I know you like to roll your eyes at me and ask how I can go on talking nonstop, right now I think you'll appreciate it. Of all the stuff you just told me, none of it sounded pleasant or easy to say, so I'll just talk for a while so you can sit there and recover, okay? Okay. Now, I was telling you about the baby shower, right? It was at Selphie's house, and of course she made it a surprise. Emily had no idea it was coming! That was fun. And the presents! Oh my God, Vin, the tiny little shoes! They were soooo cute! I didn't think I was going to go all goo-goo over the baby stuff like all the rest of the girls, but when the shoes came out, I couldn't help myself. And to think, there are going to be tiny little feet filling out those shoes soon! I'm so excited! …"

As Yuffie talked, going on and on about babies and their piles of accessories, Vincent sat in the chair, eyes closed, and cried. The relief had engulfed him, turning his bones to warm water that flooded him and escaped through his eyes against his will. The weight he had carried for so long, it was so much lighter now, and all of his fears, once again Yuffie had chased them away. For the first time in a long time, Vincent felt happy and even a little bit optimistic that things would actually turn out all right in the end.

With his girlfriend's voice chattering away in his ear and warm tears of release flowing down his face, Vincent smiled to himself and thought, _Yuffie, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you …_


	12. Leon

_He wakes to pain and nausea and an overall feeling of disgust - with himself, with the world. His head is pounding, a constant hammering above the eyes, and his stomach is roiling, great waves of sick acid sloshing against his insides and threatening to crawl up his throat to be released. He groans into the pillow and tries to hide from the sunlight that has woken him, tries to hide from consciousness itself._

_Of course it does not work, and gradually he becomes more awake. Details and memories filter through the haze of pain within his mind. He is naked beneath the sheets, sheets that do not belong to him, a bed that is not his. The bed holds only himself now, but a while ago there had been another. His memory sparks and provides the appropriate information - a brunet, long hair in a ponytail, smiling at him from across the bar, a flirtatious wink. More images flood into his throbbing head - that soft long hair spreading out on the pillow like a blossoming flower, a young, handsome face tense with building ecstasy, a chuckling whisper in his ear asking if he'd like to try it the other way the second time._

_He groans again and throws his arms over his head in a futile attempt to shield himself from the morning._

_"Ah, you're awake," a voice laughs from the doorway. "And so bright and chipper. I'm impressed."_

_He cracks one bleary eye open and is greeted by a smile that is far too bright, far too happy for his despairing state of mind. Releasing a sound that is dangerously close to a whimper, he buries his face in the pillow and wonders how difficult it would be to suffocate himself._

_"That sounds like a killer hangover," the other man comments. The bed dips near his feet, signifying that the man has sat down next to him. "Can't say I'm surprised though. You were seriously drunk last night, gorgeous."_

_Drunk. The word ricochets around his head without mercy. He has never been drunk before. Buzzed, sure, but not enough to have more than a slight headache in the morning. Never like this, where it feels as if someone is relentlessly prying his skull open and his stomach is trying to commit a slow suicide by eating itself from the inside out. It's enough to make a man swear never to touch alcohol again._

_The long-haired man speaks again, words slicing through his brain like hot knives. "So, can you stand or are you going to be in there for the rest of the day?"_

_He wants him gone. Of course he does. They had both agreed the night before that it would be a one-night stand. No ties, no expectations, and - he realizes unfortunately - no help for the pain._

_Stifling groans with every movement, he attempts to claw himself into a sitting position, succeeding only in flipping himself over on his back. "Give me a minute," he manages to mutter. "I'll be up and out of here as soon as I can."_

_The other laughs, shining slivers of unintentional pain. "That's not what I meant," he explains. "I was only wondering if I could get you into the kitchen for some breakfast. By all means, stay there as long as you need. It's not every day I get to have such a beauty in my bed."_

_Grimacing, he protests, "I'm not some fucking damsel in distress."_

_"No, but you are beautiful. Especially with those virgin eyes of yours."_

_Said eyes glare at the brunet in disbelief. "I may have a hangover," he says tightly, "but I do remember what happened last night. Considering that I both fucked and was fucked, I don't think anyone can call me a virgin anymore."_

_The words obviously do little to change the other man's attitude or opinion. He shrugs and states, "Virginity is a state of mind. An innocence that can be kept, discarded, or reclaimed regardless of the physical conditions. Say on the one hand you have a girl who'll let any man touch her anywhere but draws the line at penetration, and on the other you have a young widow whose only experience has been with her husband and since his death hasn't even looked at another man. Which one is the real virgin? Is it really a matter of who's had a dick inside her and who hasn't?" His eyes sparkle as he looks at him. "So yes, Squall, you and I had a lot of fun last night, but this morning, your eyes are as innocent as they were when I first saw you - and that's in spite of the hangover. I must admit, I'm intrigued, so how about that breakfast? I'll boil up some liquid sludge, otherwise known as instant coffee, and you can tell me all about yourself and that pain you're trying so hard to hide."_

_He watches the other man for a moment, searching for his intentions, looking for anything insincere or predatory. He finds nothing._

_"All right ... uh ..."_

_"Irvine." The brunet winks. "Don't worry about forgetting it. You were a bit preoccupied when I introduced myself."_

_He rolls his eyes but manages a small smile, pulling himself into a sitting position as he does so. "Thanks, Irvine."_

_"Not a problem, Squall."_

xXx

Leon had decided. He hated Christmas.

Well, not really. He had nothing against the holiday as a whole. The sentiments were nice, even if he didn't go out of his way to embrace them himself. And as a business owner, he'd be a fool not to love the consumer aspect of the season. And even though he wasn't overly fond of kids, even he liked watching their faces as they waited in breathless anticipation for the day to arrive, eyes shining with excitement and the pressure of remaining good in case Santa was watching. So really, it wasn't Christmas that Leon hated with a ferocity worthy of his store's animal namesake.

No, it was the decorating that Leon hated. Despised. Absolutely loathed down to the core of his soul.

" _Demyx!_ " he roared, feeling the last, tightly-strung threads of his patience trembling and threatening to snap.

"I'm coming!" his employee cried, racing out of the back room and around Yuffie at the counter, weaving through the mass of customers as best he could. As soon as he was close enough, he thrust the roll of duct tape he had been sent to fetch in Leon's direction. Leon shifted his stance so that his body was holding up the string of lights instead of his hands, grabbed the tape from Demyx, and began ripping pieces off with more force than was technically necessary. Turning as best he could in the small space of the window display, he began slapping the tape over the wires in an attempt to hold them to the glass. It looked messy, but at this point, he didn't give a damn; he just wanted the thing _finished_.

"Um, Leon?" Demyx asked from behind him. "Are you sure you won't reconsider about the tree? I'm not talking about a real one, you know. Just a small plastic one for the window."

Leon growled at him. "Demyx, we've been _through_ this. My grandfather owned this store for twenty-three years, and in all that time, all he ever put up for Christmas was -"

"- lights in the windows and a wreath on the door -"

"- lights in the windows and a wreath on the door," he said along with a grumbling Demyx. "I let you talk me into an extra wreath for the counter and the fake snow in the windows ..." He gestured down to the piles of fluffy cotton in which he was kneeling. "... but that's it. No trees, no ornaments hanging from the ceiling, and definitely no carols on the speaker system."

"But," the blond persisted, "I promise I'll do it tastefully. Just a small tree with a few wrapped boxes underneath. I'll place some unwrapped books under there as well to, you know, draw attention to them. I'll do all the work myself, and I'll even buy the tree with my own money. _Please_ , Leon!"

Leon's answer was cut off by a shrill shriek from the direction of the counter. Both men looked up to see Yuffie abandoning the register in the middle of a sale and flying out around the counter, her cell phone in her hand.

"Emmy's in labor!" she announced wildly. "She's already at the hospital and everything! I've gotta go! Demyx, take over at the register for me, okay?"

The excited girl was halfway to the front door before Leon's angry shout stopped her dead in her tracks.

" _Yuffie Kisaragi!_ "

Slowly, Yuffie turned to him, the grin plastered on her face looking half manic, half terrified. "Yes, Leon?" she asked sweetly.

Still intimidating even while kneeling in puffy fake snow, Leon crossed his arms over his chest and demanded, "Are you Emily's sister and just didn't tell us?"

Yuffie fidgeted under his heavy stare but managed to answer, "Uh, no."

"Zell's?"

"No." Her grin faltered; she knew exactly where this was going.

Leon continued, "Are you by chance a man in disguise and actually the father of the child?"

"Heh heh. No."

"Are you related to either of the parents of this child in any way, shape, or form?"

The smile was fading fast now, almost nonexistent. "No."

Leon could tell how frightening he looked by the expressions of some of his customers, but he just didn't care at the moment. Uncrossing his arms and using one to point to her post with razor-sharpness, he bellowed, "Then get back to that counter and do your job before I fire you again!" To Yuffie's credit, she managed a small, petulant pout, but the hunch of her shoulders and the speed with which she hurried back to the register revealed just how much that threat had scared her.

Turning to Demyx, the frustrated, frazzled, and very pissed-off store owner continued, "As for you, _fine!_ Have your blasted tree -" He wanted to swear, he really did, but there were children present, watching the angry man with wide, fascinated eyes. "- but you're putting it up by yourself, and when the season is over, you're taking it and the rest of these decorations down by yourself as well. I refuse to have anything more to do with it!" The musician had taken several steps away, and now he nodded carefully, as if worried that he might trigger a far worse explosion if he moved too quickly.

Finished with his tirade and feeling minimally better, Leon extracted himself from the window and stalked off to the back room. Once there, he collapsed into a metal folding chair and tipped his head back to stare up at the ceiling - only to meet the gaze of a little Rudolph plush toy that Zell had left the previous Saturday and which was now looking down at him from the top of a nearby shelf. Calmly and serenely, Leon stood, plucked the toy from its perch, brought it to eye level, and looked at it for a good thirty seconds. Then he hurled it with all his strength against the opposite wall. It bounced off and landed on the floor with a soft squishing noise.

Now feeling considerably better at this show of rejection of everything Christmas, Leon wandered upstairs to call Zell and inquire about Emily and the baby. And to ask whether he wanted the Rudolph doll back or if Leon could pull a Jack Skellington on the little bugger and dissect it instead.

xXx

Peace. He had finally obtained it. One would think it shouldn't be too hard to find, what with Jesus being the embodiment of peace and goodwill and everything. But it wasn't until late at night, after the store had closed and Demyx had gone over to Axel's, that Leon was able to relax in his favorite chair, in his quiet, darkened living room, and let the world slip out of focus as he gazed at the simple electric candles he had placed in the windows, their soft glow providing the only light in an otherwise untouched blanket of darkness.

The last he had heard, Emily was still in labor, but it wouldn't be that much longer now. Zell had sounded exhausted on the phone, upset at seeing his wife in so much pain and worried in spite of the doctors' assurances. It had reminded Leon of two years before when Irvine had called him, actually in tears because Selphie had reamed him out for suggesting she rethink getting an epidural. Leon had reacted to Zell's call in the exact same way he had reacted to Irvine's: by hanging up and immediately calling his mother to thank her for everything she had done for him during his life. Both times, Raine had been suitably amused. And she had graciously hung up before Leon's father could pick up the other line and destroy their son's valuable peace.

Peace. It was such a beautiful thing. No noise, no stress, no need to do anything but sit there and pretend that the whole world had melted away. There was one problem with a peace as complete as this one was, however. Leon had never been able to shut off his mind, and in the emptiness left by the removal of all else, his thoughts could not be ignored. Thoughts of his job, his store, Christmas, his responsibilities, those had all been blasted away. And that left room for other, more personal thoughts to emerge.

Thoughts of Cloud.

Leon sighed and massaged his forehead with his fingers. He wasn't sure what to think about Cloud anymore. On the one hand, there were the facts. Cloud had had sex with a woman while he was dating Leon, Cloud had broken up with Leon to marry said woman, Cloud had not contacted Leon at any point over the following six years in spite of the fact that the woman had lost his child. The facts cried betrayal; the facts screamed at him not to trust his ex-love. But on the other hand, there was observation. Cloud's eyes had been a battleground of emotions, the wild flames of want tempered with a knowledgeable restraint and a respect for the other man's feelings. Cloud's face had been strong and serious as he denounced the sex as a mistake, unintentional, and insisted on his fidelity. The Cloud that Leon had loved had never worn his emotions openly but neither had he been any good at faking them, prompting Leon to believe in any emotions he had witnessed. But was this Cloud the same as the one he had known or had the man learned how to act in the years they had been apart?

If he were being completely honest with himself, Leon would have to admit that the one thing that stood out most in his mind was the claim that Cloud had made that his future wife had "forced" him into the sex that had gotten her pregnant. How was that even possible? Had the woman trussed him up, bound him down, and raped him? Ridiculous! Any way he looked at it, Leon couldn't believe for a moment that somehow, someway, Cloud hadn't agreed to the act and let her have her way with him. Hadn't succumbed to some form of seduction. And that was cheating, no matter what the other man wanted to believe.

Even as these thoughts crossed his mind, however, another memory surfaced for Leon to consider. That the woman had been "half mad with grief". Leon knew exactly how that felt. Grief had driven him to that bar and into a complete stranger's bed. In a way, she and he had been rather similar, abandoned by the ones they loved, desperate for human warmth, for touch, for relief. The difference had been that Irvine had been single at the time.

But what if he hadn't?

The thought hit Leon so hard that he reacted physically, flinching backwards as if struck. What if he, Leon, had essentially been in Aerith's shoes? If Irvine had been an established friend, come over to comfort him after losing Cloud? Leon had been so desperate to just sleep with someone as a futile form of revenge that he certainly would have come on to his friend and would have pressed the issue if Irvine had resisted. But what if Irvine had been attached at the time? Would Leon still have tried to have sex with him? If the girlfriend had been Selphie, then no, definitely not. But what if it had been some random girl that Leon didn't know? Leon and Aerith had never met; they knew nothing about each other, meant nothing to each other. Would the thought of that stranger's eventual grief have been enough to persuade Leon from pursuing the selfish need to soothe his own?

Unfortunately, the more Leon thought about it, the more he realized the answer would have been no.

So that left him ... where? He could not condemn Aerith, not with the knowledge that he would have done exactly the same, but did any of that change his opinion on Cloud?

Virginity is a state of mind. Irvine had said that the morning after they had met. The statement had been too philosophical, too poetical, for Leon to agree with it. He preferred the clean lines of physical fact: if you've never penetrated or been penetrated, you're a virgin, and if you have, you're not. But in a complicated situation such as this when facts were no longer clean, it would appear that philosophy was actually necessary. Perhaps Irvine had been right, and perhaps fidelity was also a state of mind. But if that were the case, then the only way to assess Cloud's fidelity would be to step inside his mind, and since that was impossible, Leon would have to trust that Cloud was telling him the truth. And _that_ was where it all broke down because after all that had happened, Leon had very little trust left.

Trust was something, however, that could be rebuilt.

Leon was reaching for his phone before he realized what he was doing, but once he had, he continued punching in the numbers without hesitation. The other end rang two times, three times, four.

"Hello, you have reached the Strife household. We're in the middle of moving right now, and Sora's already packed the phone away once, so if you get this message, you'll probably just want to hang up and call me on my cell. The number is -"

A smirk spread across Leon's face as he hung up and dialed a different number. Cloud had sounded seriously frazzled. His lingering doubts about making this phone call instantly disappeared.

This time the line rang only twice before being picked up.

"Hello?"

"Cloud, it's Leon."

"Leon?" The other man sounded calmer but still a little stressed. "Wha - ? Why are you - ?"

"You're moving out here soon, right?"

"Y-yeah. Settlement is next week. I've got professionals for the furniture and most of the boxes, and the boys and I are taking a U-Haul with the rest. Why - ?"

"I thought I'd offer my help," Leon answered before Cloud could ask. "Tell me where and when to show up and I will."

The surprise and relief were so thick in Cloud's voice that Leon could almost feel the emotions running through his own body. "Really? That would be _fantastic_. Thanks."

"Not a problem," he replied, fighting a smile. "I know that one extra pair of hands really isn't that much -"

"But it's something," Cloud cut him off. "Seriously, Leon, I appreciate it."

"Sure thing. Just let me know. You've got my numbers?"

"Yeah, I've got them. I'll call you later with the details. Yuffie's offered to help, too, but Vincent's out of town next week."

Leon snorted gently. "Is he ever in town?"

"God, I know. Luckily for him, Yuffie's a human barnacle - once she latches on, she never lets go."

The image of the hyper brunette clinging to Vincent for dear life made Leon chuckle. It felt surprisingly comfortable to talk to his ex like this. All of the tension and anxiety that had been present at their last meeting had disappeared. Perhaps it was the physical distance between them that the phone symbolized, but Leon felt like he could talk to Cloud as a friend and nothing more. It was a very promising sign for the future.

A soft beep in his ear stopped these thoughts and shifted Leon's attention away. On any other night, he would have ignored the interruption, but tonight, he had a good idea of who it was. "Sorry, Cloud," he said, actually feeling some disappointment with the words, "I have another call coming in. I'll talk to you later."

"Sure. And thanks again."

"You're welcome. See you."

"Good night."

As Cloud hung up, Leon pulled the phone away from his ear just enough to find the flash button, then returned it to its previous place.

"Hello?"

For a moment, no one answered him; then a soft voice spoke, its tone laced with gentle wonder. "Squall? I'm holding a baby."

A quiet contentment spread over him at the sound of Zell's voice. His friend sounded awestruck and so very happy. Not bothering to comment on the usage of his old name, he leaned back in his chair and asked, "Boy or girl?"

"Girl. Her name is Paige. Paige Catherine Dincht. She's six pounds, nine ounces. Twenty inches."

Leon shut his eyes and smiled into the darkness. "Congratulations, Dad."

"Thanks." Zell paused a moment to simply breathe, and Leon could easily imagine the expression on the other man's face as he held his newborn baby girl. "She's so beautiful," he said a moment later. Then, he clarified, "Well, okay, not really. She looks like a red raisin and when she was awake she was looking at me all pop-eyed. But oh my God, Squall ... I have a daughter. I'm holding another person. A living person. And she's mine."

"You did well."

Zell laughed quietly. "I didn't do anything. Emily did all the work."

"How is she?"

"She's fine. Sleeping right now. I'm so proud of her. I never would have been able to do what she did. She's just ... she's amazing. All of this. It's just amazing." He drew in a slow breath and let it out again before confessing, "I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now. There are just too many emotions and thoughts spinning through my head. And I think ... I think I'm afraid. I mean, can I really do this? Can I be a good father? A proper one?"

"You'll be fine," Leon assured him. "If Irvine can do it, you can."

"I know, but ... . You're not here; you can't see how small she is. How fragile she is. When I look at her, I just feel like ... like if anyone ever hurts her, I'll ... well, I'm not sure what I'll do, but it won't be pretty, I can tell you that much."

"You're going to be one of those dads who scare the shit out of their daughter's boyfriends, aren't you?"

Zell chuckled at that. "I swore to myself that I wasn't going to be," he admitted, "but I probably am."

"So with you and your fists and Irvine and his love of shotguns, neither Angela nor Paige will be able to get a date until they go away to college."

"Please don't talk about that. I swear I'm going to start crying if I think about my little girl going to college."

"What about if I say the 'w' word?" Leon teased.

"Which one is that?"

"'Wedding'."

"Ah, no!" Zell laughed, faking horror. "Anything but that! She's only two hours old for God's sake."

"Sorry. Couldn't help myself."

"You're a sadist, Leonhart. You really are. ... Uh-oh. I woke her up."

Leon braced himself for the inevitable crying, then relaxed when it didn't come. "She's still awfully quiet," he remarked.

"Yeah," Zell explained, "the nurses said she'd be very mellow for a day or so. Being born is kind of traumatic, I guess. Right around the time we get her home and don't have all this help anymore, that's when she'll start screaming her head off." He began chuckling again, and in a few seconds had progressed to all-out laughter. "She's giving me this look like 'Who the hell are you?' I swear, Squall, she's got to be the ugliest thing I've ever seen and yet the most beautiful, too." He laughed a bit more, then settled down with a sigh. "I'm totally falling in love all over again. With a little goggle-eyed prune. You must think I'm a complete sap."

"Nah," Leon replied, smirking. "I know you're a sap. I'm the one you tested out those love poems for Emily on, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Those were terrible."

"Horrible," Leon agreed. "Completely atrocious."

"Now, now," Zell joked, "don't hold back. Tell me what you really think."

"I think Emily's a saint for sitting through them. Either that or she has no literary taste."

"We'll go with saint. She deserves it after all she went through today. Right, Paige? ... oops."

"What? What happened?" Leon asked, brow creasing slightly in concern.

"She's doing that rooting thing," Zell explained. To the baby, he said, "I have to wake your mother up for that, sweetheart. I mean, I have the equipment, but it's kind of permanently broken." He cut over Leon's quiet chuckles to say, "I've got to go, Squall. You'll be coming to visit tomorrow, right?"

"Right. Just as soon as visiting hours start. I may even close the store for a few hours since there's no way I'll be keeping Yuffie there and Demyx can't run it on his own."

"All right. I'll see you then."

"See you, Zell. Tell Emily I said congratulations."

"I will."

Once the connection had clicked closed and he had laid the receiver back in its cradle, Leon tipped his head onto the back of his chair and just existed. In a hospital across town, a new mother was waking up from much-needed sleep to feed her newborn, and somewhere in another town entirely, a young father was preparing to shift his entire life from one location to another. All over the world, people were struggling with challenges, unforeseen snags, or just the day-to-day reality of their lives. But here, in this apartment, there was only quiet, the soft glow of electric candlelight, and the lingering joy of new life and fresh beginnings. Here there was peace, and it was immeasurably beautiful.

_I'm falling in love all over again_.

Leon smiled as the memory of Zell's voice floated into his head. Two years ago, Irvine had expressed a similar sentiment at the birth of his own daughter and had stated that Leon needed to experience it for himself. Outwardly, Leon had agreed and joked about advancements in science and male pregnancy, but inwardly he had viciously scoffed at the declaration. He had resolved years ago that no one would ever have that much control over him again and had steadfastly stood by that decision ever since. But now he was starting to wonder if it wouldn't be worth it to try one more time.

Lifting his head from the chair, Leon opened his eyes and let his gaze wander to the window where his memory's eye could see a figure standing there. A strong stance, determined. Blue eyes the color of the sea blazing with honesty and pain. Words falling from lips that wanted to be kissed but didn't expect to ever again.

_I loved you then, I love you now, and thanks to tonight, I now know that I'm going to love you for the rest of my fucking_ **_life_** _._

The smile grew as he shut his eyes again and lay his head back on the chair once more. Yes, it might just be worth it to try after all.


	13. Demyx and Zexion

_October:_

Demyx glanced longingly out his bedroom window at a small group of trick-or-treaters moving slowly down the sidewalk, their little noses buried in their bags of sweets as they walked. He recognized a few of them as kids who lived in nearby apartments and surmised that they were returning from a nearby development where the setting was more appropriate and the haul definitely better. This was the one time of the year that Demyx hated living in an apartment above a bookstore. No children came to his door to ask for candy; the business district was a terrible place to trick-or-treat.

Someday, he vowed to himself, he would own a house in the suburbs and every year he would go all out decorating it and give out such amazing cookies and home-made candy that kids from two towns away would beg their parents to drive them over to his house just so they could knock on his door.

With that wonderful image in mind, he turned back to his desk and continued the letter he had started.

xXx

_Dear "Echo",_

_I have to admit, I feel really weird sending a complete stranger letters like this, but I do want to talk to you, so I guess I'll just deal with it. I'd like to get to know you a little better if that's okay. You seem like a really private person what with always hiding from me and everything, but maybe you can share more if it's like this? I know I'm more inclined to say more when I'm emailing or on the phone with someone than I am face to face. Of course, that's not saying much because I tend to talk a lot anyway._

_I'm thinking that it's only fair, if I'm going to ask you to tell me about you, for me to tell you about me. (I think I got all the pronouns in that sentence right.) Like I said, I like to talk, so prepare to have your ears talked off. Or your eyes written out since this is a letter? Whatever, forget it._

_Anyway, you already know my name, where I live, where I work, and that I'm a musician. So, what else to share? I'm twenty-two, graduated from Jefferson High a few blocks down, didn't go to college since I want to follow my dreams of a career in music. My best friend is Axel (the red-head in those pictures) and my other best friend is Luxord (he owns The Royal Flush). I owe both of them a whole lot. There were a few times, right after school, when I couldn't get any stage time that wasn't an open mike night, that I thought about just giving up on music and going into, I don't know, communications or something. They wouldn't let me. It helps that they're following their own dreams, so we kind of hold each other up as we go along. Luxord is the closest one to succeeding in his dream, but we're all getting there bit by bit._

_So what exactly is my dream? It's pretty simple in theory but hard in practice. All I want is to be able to make music for a living. I don't need to be famous. I don't need any top ten hits or gold albums or anything. I just want to be able to quit the day job and live off of music alone. That's all. And yet it's really hard because, even though I have a few regular gigs in town, they don't pay much. I did the math once, and if I played them all, every week for a month, I'd have enough to pay the rent and not much else. No hot water, electricity, or food, and definitely no fun stuff. So I'm not where I want to be yet._

_I think that's enough for now. If I don't stop myself, I'll just keep on going until I'll be sending you so many pages that they won't fit into the envelope. Besides, if I tell you everything now, you'll probably get bored with me. This way I can preserve some mystery._

_Please write back and tell me a few things about yourself. I'll be waiting to hear from you._

_Signed, Demyx_

xXx

**Demyx -**

**I don't think you could bore me if you tried. Your writing is just as alive and vibrant as your smile. I suppose I now have another question to answer regarding you: How can you give such energy to mere words on paper? I honestly felt as though you had imbued the very ink with your spirit so that it leapt from the paper in my hands into my body and brought an unexpected smile to my face that simply would not go away until long after I had put the paper aside. Though it pains me to admit that I cannot understand something, I have no choice but to accept that I simply do not understand you. I want to understand, however, and I am not a man of many wants. Therefore, please allow me to continue to watch you, at least for a little while more.**

**Signed, Echo**

xXx

_Dear Echo,_

_Wow. Just wow. I'm standing at the counter at my job right now, and I'm really glad that all the customers are still browsing and that Yuffie isn't around. I swear my face must look like a tomato I'm blushing so bad._

_Yet, in spite of how flattered I feel, I'm still rather pissed. You didn't tell me anything about yourself! I didn't start writing to you so I can get my ego stroked. I did it so I could learn more about the person who's been sending me pictures, the person who claims I'm his inspiration. If you want Psyche to start reining in her curiosity, Mr. Eros, you'll need to start talking at least a little bit._

_Although, now that I look over your extremely short letter again, I think I can pick out a few things about you. You're obviously very smart. Your choice of words and your claim to understand most things tells me that. You're a guy, just like Axel and I suspected ("not a man of many wants"). Also, you're not an artist like I first thought. You said before that I inspire you, but it seems you're not used to inspiration. Otherwise, you wouldn't be trying to understand it. Inspiration is an emotional thing, not a mental thing. It can't be understood. That's what makes it divine. I've heard some more faith-oriented artists say that inspiration is God whispering suggestions in their ear. I don't really believe that, but I do believe that if you try to dissect the reasons behind why you like to take pictures of me, you're just going to drive yourself crazy. Just accept it for what it is. A gift._

_I'm going to stop here because a bunch of customers just came in and I know I'm going to have to help them soon. I'll just throw this in an envelope and take it over to the post office on my lunch break. Make sure you write more next time! About yourself!_

_Signed, Demyx_

xXx

**Demyx -**

**I apologize for upsetting you. I am a rather private person, and I don't enjoy talking about myself. However, for your sake, I will try.**

**You were correct in all your assumptions about me. I am male, between the ages of twenty and thirty, and I am not an artist. To be completely truthful, photography isn't even my hobby. It is something I studied many years ago and then put aside with the expectation that I would not return to it. When I saw you, these sensations that I do not understand gripped me, and I can only find relief for them by taking pictures of you. If there were another, more logical way to ease them, I would choose that method instead, but so far I haven't been able to find any other remedy.**

**Your discussion of inspiration, I must admit, confused me even more. I am not an emotional person; I am strictly cerebral. As such, your description cannot apply to me, and therefore, I will continue to search for answers in spite of your friendly warnings about the state of my sanity.**

**Signed, Echo**

xXx

_Dear Echo,_

_Can I call you something other than Echo? I'm starting to get annoyed by it. I mean, Echo was a girl. A super chatty one, too, which was the whole reason why she got cursed in the first place. You are definitely not chatty. And I am no Narcissus, thank you very much._

_Strictly cerebral? I don't think so. Have you looked at the pictures you took of me? Hold on a minute while I go get them. Okay, I'm back. I'm looking at these pictures, and there's no way you can convince me you don't have any emotion in you. Every single shot is brimming with life and feeling. Even this one of me napping in the park has so much emotion in it that I can almost feel the sun on my arms and hear the birds singing above my head. You may think you're all cold and analytical, but I bet there's this fantastically talented artistic soul hiding deep within you, like buried treasure at the bottom of the sea or the seed of a rare flower covered in several inches of snow._

_Oh, wow, now I'm getting massive inspiration for a new song. I've got to go and work on it before I lose it. Write back soon, okay?_

_Signed, Demyx_

xXx

**Demyx -**

**Did you really keep all of the pictures?**

**Signed, Nobody**

xXx

_Dear Emily Dickinson,_

_DON'T JUST WRITE A SINGLE SENTENCE ON THE BACK OF MY OLD ENVELOPE! Seriously, I thought you hadn't gotten back to me yet, and then I noticed the back and I was all like WHAT THE HELL? Don't do that again._

_Anyway, yes, I kept the pictures. They're really good, and once you explained yourself a bit so I didn't have to be fearing for my life anymore, I decided I really liked them. I got an album for them and everything. Leon (he's my boss/roommate) looked at me like I was nuts when he first saw it, but I'm used to it. I'm always doing things that make him look at me like that._

_And now, as punishment for your last "letter", I won't be writing any more. It's your turn again, and I expect at least 500 words or I'm going to hunt you down and beat you with a dictionary._

_Signed, Demyx_

xXx

_Dear Shutterbug,_

_Well, that certainly wasn't what I meant when I said I wanted at least 500 words. I guess by the old saying, you actually sent me 5000 words, but I kind of wanted actual written words, you know? Less about me and more about you. But these are just as wonderful as the others, so I guess I can't be too mad._

_I finished that song about you. Axel liked it. He said it was one of my better ones. He also said I should sing it the next time Luxord asks me to play, but I don't think I will. I don't really like singing my own stuff in front of people. Not yet at least. Not until it's good enough._

_Leon threw a fit today because Yuffie and I asked if we could start getting ready for Christmas. He's one of those last remaining store owners who insists on treating Thanksgiving as an actual holiday. So I asked him if I could put a turkey in the window, and he threw another fit. I think he just doesn't like to decorate._

_So what about you? Are you into Christmas or Hanukkah? Are you very religious or not so much? I'm thinking the latter, but I thought I'd ask rather than assume. (Plus, if I ask you direct questions, you have to answer them or else I'm allowed to yell at you some more.) Do you have anyone to buy for? Sisters? Brothers? What do you want for Christmas? Are you bored with me yet? Annoyed? Am I asking enough questions?_

_Signed, Demyx_

xXx

_Mid-November_ :

When the young man first approached the counter, Demyx had thought he was a teenager. Now that he was closer, however, he could see that the baby face held a pair of much older, wiser eyes. Or at least, he assumed there was another eye under those bangs. At the moment, he could only see the one.

"Hello! Welcome to Lionhearted Books," he chirped to the blank face of the customer in front of him. "How can I help you?"

"I am Professor Vexen's teaching assistant," the young man stated in a quiet, even tone. "I am here to pick up his order."

"Oh, okay. Wait here a sec." Demyx ducked into the back room and quickly found the professor's stack of magazines and newsletters on the shelf set out for their regulars. After returning to the counter and typing in the code to access the professor's account, he began to ring the small pile up and commented idly as he did, "So, you work for Dr. Frosty? That must be tough. He's always barking at me when he's in here. I can't imagine being his assistant."

He flashed a smile at the other man, but it faltered a bit when he saw the single eye widen a fraction in surprise and bewilderment.

"Doctor ... Frosty?"

"Yeah, that's what I call Professor Vexen because he's always so cold and so prim and proper. Like a walking snowman." He softened his smile into what he hoped looked apologetic and added, "Sorry if it confused you."

The smile disappeared completely, however, when the eye suddenly narrowed and stared hard at him. The quiet voice rose only a bit, but it was enough to notice. "Professor Vexen is an excellent scientist. He has made many valuable contributions to the field of biochemistry, and his current research, once finished, will bring us significantly closer to the goal of understanding the human mind. It is an honor to work for him."

Demyx swallowed and carefully handed over the plastic bag into which he had placed the magazines. "Yes, of course," he murmured, quickly retreating into appease-the-customer mode. "You're quite right. It was wrong of me to say such things. Please forgive me."

The other young man said nothing; he simply took the offered bag, turned, and walked out of the store without looking back. Demyx watched him go with growing sadness.

"Well," he commented to the air around him, "he sure hates me now."

"Who does?"

He turned to find Yuffie returning from her bathroom break upstairs. She settled in next to him as he answered, "Vexen's new assistant. I think I insulted him, and now he hates me."

"Oh, him," Yuffie replied, clearly not caring. "He's weird. Kind of cute, but definitely weird."

"Yeah," Demyx agreed, "he _was_ cute. Not my type, though. Too stiff and definitely too cold. He'd make Vincent look warm and fuzzy."

"Vincent _is_ warm," she protested with a sly grin. "Very warm. Especially when I'm lying in bed, and he's licking his way up my body, nibbling on my hip, sucking on my -"

"Ack!" Demyx cut her off with a playful half-scream, covering his ears with his hands. "Hetero sex! No more, please! I can't take it!"

They both dissolved into raucous laughter, neither one noticing the figure standing in the shadow of a building across the street, looking back at them through the large storefront window, longing shining from his one visible eye.

xXx

**Demyx -**

**No, you are not boring me yet nor do I find you annoying. If you ask too many questions or ask any I don't wish to answer, I'll just ignore them and let you yell at me for a while.**

**My family celebrates Christmas, but I myself am not that interested in it or in religion in general. I have one good friend for whom I will buy a gift and of course I will buy for my parents, but that is all. I have no brothers or sisters. As for gifts I would like to receive, I can think of nothing in particular. Perhaps I am the boring one.**

**I was surprised to learn that you do not like performing your own compositions. I would think that being a successful musician, one who could support himself with his music, would necessitate vigorous promotion of your own ideas. I know my credentials are rather poor in regards to judging musical talent, but from what I've heard of your singing, I think you should have more confidence in your abilities. Your friend's bar sounds like the ideal place to test out your own songs. Even if your audience does not like them, he is unlikely to send you away because of it.**

**I am glad you liked the pictures. If you desire it, I would be happy to send you more.**

**Signed, The Proverbial Stick in the Mud**

xXx

_Dear Stick,_

_Do you like books? I work in a bookstore you know. Do you want a book for Christmas?_

_I've been thinking a lot about your advice to give my own songs a try when I perform. You're right, you know. I'm never going to achieve my goal of becoming a self-sufficient musician by singing covers. I just worry about my own stuff being good enough. I keep feeling like if I just worked a little harder on it, I could improve it just that much more. Maybe I'm being a perfectionist. Or maybe I'm so scared of rejection that I keep making excuses not to try in the first place. Sadly, the more I think about it, the more likely that second one seems. I have a gig coming up this weekend. Let me think about it a bit more. Maybe I will try one out. Not the new one, though. That one needs some more polishing before I perform it for anyone other than Axel._

_More questions! What kind of books do you like? What TV shows do you watch? And here's the important one: what kind of music do you like? Think very carefully before you answer that one. Your future as my friend depends on it._

_Yes, I'd love to see more pictures! It's weird that they're all of me, but they're so good that I don't care anymore. Besides, it's fun remembering all the times when they were taken. It's kind of like one of those "This is your life" shows except it's just for the past year._

_Write soon!_

_Signed, Demyx_

xXx

**Demyx -**

**Why are you so adamant about getting me a Christmas present? You've never met me. You don't even know my name. I don't understand. Why are there so many things about you that I just don't understand? I try and I try to comprehend it, but I can't seem to get anywhere close to an answer. I form hypotheses and I run experiments, and just when I think I've found an explanation, you do or say something that brings the whole thing crumbling down. I feel like I'm turning into someone I don't want to be, and even though I know it's your fault, I can't blame you at all nor can I bring myself to cut off this communication with you or to stop watching you. Please, please just answer for me why you want to buy me a present. Please let there be at least one thing that I can understand.**

**Signed, a man completely at your mercy**

xXx

_To my dear, distraught friend,_

_Your last letter made me cry. I can't believe I upset you so much. I didn't mean to. I really didn't. Please believe me when I say that if I had known how much my questions would upset you, I never would have asked them._

_I want to buy you a Christmas present because you're my friend. That's all. I'm just the kind of guy who likes to buy presents for people even if they're cheap little things. I like to give presents to my friends, all of my friends. That's all it is._

_Your next question is probably why I consider you my friend, and unfortunately, that one is a little more complicated. Yes, I've never met you, but I have friends online who I've never met and who I probably never will (especially the ones who live in different countries). Yes, I don't know your name, but I feel that a name is just a word or a label, not much more. Kind of like how Shakespeare said it in Romeo and Juliet. "It is not hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man." (Something like that.) You're my friend because of the way you make me feel. Because I like to hear from you and I look forward to your replies to my letters. Because your pictures make me smile. Because I did cry when I realized how upset you were. I just like you, Echo. You don't show me much, but what I see, I like._

_Sorry I couldn't be more helpful. Feel better, okay?_

_Signed, Demyx_

xXx

**Demyx -**

**Thank you for your last letter. It did make me feel better, immeasurably so. I apologize for worrying you. I should not have written such things to you, and I won't do it again.**

**I realize I did you a disservice by not answering your questions last time. Please allow me to correct that now. I like to read many types of books. Nonfiction is my favorite although I prefer science and history to any other subjects. In fiction, my favorite authors have all been dead for many centuries. I like Greek and Roman myths, poems, and plays as I am sure you have already guessed. Although I do not speak Greek, my Latin is good, so I enjoy reading those works in their native tongue. I also like works from the Medieval era and some from the Renaissance. I read very little fiction written after those periods.**

**I do not own a television, so I cannot list favorites for you there. As for music, I admit - with much trepidation in regards to your reaction - that I enjoy classical music and jazz. In both genres, I prefer to listen to instrumental only although I will listen to vocal pieces occasionally. I am afraid I am not a fan of rock, and I cannot stand country music or rap.**

**As I read over what I have just written, I am beginning to worry that someone like you will find me dull and uninteresting. Can you continue to call me friend after all I have revealed?**

**Signed, your (soon to be ex?) friend**

xXx

_Dear Solomon the Wise,_

_Did you really think I'd drop you flat just because you're smart and mature and don't follow along with the rest of the crowd? Hell no, Echo! (God, I'm such a dork for writing that.) I'm more excited to be your friend now that I know all of what you told me. Having friends with different likes and interests makes life fun! I mean, my two best friends are completely different from each other (and from me), and I'm never giving them up. So forget about scaring me off. Ain't gonna happen._

_And another thing. Don't apologize for venting your frustrations and worries to me. You need to get those out, and I'm just happy I was here to offer you some support and help you through it. If you ever feel the need to write to me like that again, go right ahead. I don't mind at all. I don't know how much help I'll be, but I'll do my best for you. I can definitely promise you that._

_Shoot, Leon's calling for me so I need to cut this short. I'll try to write you again later today. Take care._

_Signed, Demyx_

xXx

_Early December:_

Zexion had Demyx's work schedule memorized, down to the minute. He knew exactly when the blond musician started his shift, when he took his breaks and his lunch, when he was manning the counter and when he was stocking, and when he was done for the day and free to go. Therefore, he knew that right now was a perfectly safe time to go to the post office and check if Demyx had responded to his latest letter or not. Right now, Demyx was on register in the middle of a morning shift, and since it was the middle of the Christmas shopping season, he would be far too busy to beg Leon into a break of any kind. There was no way he would be anywhere near the post office.

Stepping into the lobby, Zexion saw first the four-foot fake tree, then the head of familiar blond hair, and he was once again reminded that nothing about Demyx was predictable or comprehensible.

A quick about-face, and the younger man was out on the sidewalk again, one hand against his chest in an attempt to keep his frantic heart from beating its way out of his body. Thankfully, Demyx had not seen him - he had been busy at the P.O. box and the tree had blocked a portion of his line of sight. By the time the musician left the post office, struggling down the stairs with the tree in one hand and a large plastic bag in the other, Zexion had retreated to the other side of the street and hidden himself partly around a corner. He watched, lost in the horror of what might have been, as Demyx slowly made his way down the sidewalk.

After the fourth or fifth time that Demyx paused to regrip the tree, shift the bag, or make a mad grab for one or the other as they started to fall, Zexion began to feel his fear fading in favor of concern for his muse - no, his friend, even though the other did not know it. Concern quickly transformed into the desire to help, and before he knew what had happened, his feet were moving. Rapid, sharp strides took him across the street and up behind the taller man within seconds, and his hand reached out just as the plastic bag began to slip from Demyx's grip yet again.

Existence momentarily froze as two sets of fingers closed around the handle of the plastic bag. Startled blue-green met clear violet-blue, and for a heartbeat or maybe two, neither wanted to look away. Then, the fake tree shifted and poked Demyx in the shoulder who blinked, fidgeted, and attempted a smile.

"It's you," he said. "Vexen's assistant."

"Yes," Zexion answered. His eyes lowered to the handle that they both still held. "Let go," he commanded. "I'll carry this for you."

"Oh!" Demyx cried in surprise and delight. "Thank you!" He released his hold on the bag and allowed Zexion to take it, using his newly freed hand to steady the tree. The next moment, he was stumbling along after the smaller man who had immediately shot forward, walking slowly enough that Demyx could keep up but quickly enough that he always stayed a step or two ahead.

"I'm taking these to the store," Demyx called to him as they reached the first intersection.

Zexion very nearly replied, "I know," but realized in time that he might have to explain why he knew, so he kept his mouth shut and nodded instead. They spent the rest of the trip in silence, Demyx too busy with the tree to attempt any conversation.

When they reached Lionhearted Books, Zexion opened and held the door for Demyx who maneuvered the full-branched tree through the opening with more than a few grunts and curses. It lost a few fake needles in the process but that was all, and soon Zexion was watching the blond haul the tree over to one of the front windows which was already covered in fake snow.

"Demyx, what the hell?" Leon's voice greeted them from the counter. "That is never going to fit in the window!"

"Yes it is," Demyx argued, leaning it against the wall. "I measured before I left. It'll fit."

"It is _not_ going to fit. What about a stand?"

"Leon," the blond sighed, "I said I would take care of it, so let me take care of it." He walked back to Zexion who had stopped just inside the door and held out his hand for the plastic bag. The younger man gave it to him without comment.

While Leon grumbled objections and curses from the other side of the store, Demyx carefully pulled several items out of the bag and laid them on the floor next to the window: a box of lights, two boxes of colored ball ornaments, one box of bell-shaped ornaments, a box of silver tinsel, and one small tree stand. After he had finished, he looked up and, spotting Zexion still standing there, rose to his feet and walked over with a smile.

"Thanks so much for helping me carry this stuff," he said cheerfully. Then, an expression of bemused confusion passed over his face, and he added, "I don't think I ever learned your name."

"It's Zexion."

"Zexion," he repeated, smiling once more. "I'm Demyx." He held out his hand for Zexion to shake. The younger man stared at the hand for a moment but Demyx did not falter, so eventually he reached out and took it. As their hands bobbed just a bit, Demyx asked, "Do you want to help me put the tree up and decorate it? I'd love the help."

Zexion knew what his answer would be, but for some reason, standing there with Demyx's hand in his, he found it difficult to say. "No," he finally managed. "I should get back to campus."

Disappointment invaded Demyx's smile but could not destroy it as he dropped Zexion's hand and nodded. "Okay then. I'll see you around. Good-bye, Zexion, and thanks again for the help."

He turned and went back to his Christmas decorations, kneeling down next to them and beginning to open the box that held the tree stand. Zexion watched for half a second, then turned and moved towards the door. In a low voice that he was not certain would carry to the blond or not, he replied, "Good-bye ... Demyx."

He pushed his way through the door and, with a jangle of bells, was gone.


	14. Riku

_Fourteen, and his greatest wish is to find a time machine so that he can go back and kill his grandmother. Maybe then he wouldn't have so many painful memories. Maybe he wouldn't have any memories at all. Never been born._

_"Hey."_

_It doesn't matter how many he beats down; it never ends. Once they realized they would never be able to take him down individually, they started coming in groups. He beat those down, too, just as easily. The groups kept getting larger and larger, and yet it doesn't matter. He takes them down, they get back up again and come back another day. All in the name of destroying the "pretty boy", the one who is too beautiful to be allowed to simply fade into the background and lead a normal life._

_"Hey, Riku?"_

_The last time, he fought an entire dozen. Twelve against one, and he smashed them all. And Kadaj stood a few paces away, and just laughed and laughed and laughed …_

_"Riku!"_

_He jumps, startled out of his thoughts, and looks up to see a girl standing in front of him, looking at him expectantly._

_"Sorry," he says._

_She smiles. "That's okay." She sits down next to him on the low wall surrounding the parking lot of the school. "Are you waiting for someone?"_

_"Yeah," he answers. "My brother." He offers no more information. He doesn't really know how to talk to girls. None of them have ever tried to talk to him before, except for Kairi who doesn't count._

_"I see." The girl next to him - he doesn't remember her name - turns to face him and smiles some more. "Riku," she says in a strong, easy voice, "would you like to go out with me this weekend?"_

_He freezes, stunned. Did she just ask him out on a date? Her? Him? A date? He must have heard her wrong. He turns and says, "I'm sorry, what?"_

_"Would you like to go out with me this weekend?" she repeats. "Like to a movie or something?"_

_He can't help it. He stares. There is no way that a girl has just asked him out. It must be some sort of trick. His wide eyes return to normal as he begins to understand. Yes, a trick. That's what it is. Someone has put her up to this so that, when he ecstatically accepts, she can take it back and laugh in his face. Well, he has no intention of letting that happen. He will never lose a battle, physical or otherwise._

_Slapping on a polite smile, he says, "I'm sorry, but I'm not really looking for a relationship right now."_

_Her face falls a little, but only a little. "Oh," she responds. "I see." Her forehead crinkles a bit as she thinks for a moment; then it clears as she asks, "Well, will you sleep with me instead?"_

_He jumps again, this time nearly falling off the wall._ **_What_ ** _did she just ask him?_

_"What?!"_

_"Will you sleep with me?" she repeats as if it is the most common question in the world. Smiling a bit at his reaction, she continues, "You're super hot, Riku. If I can't be your girlfriend, let's at least have a little fun together." After a minute in which all he does is stare at her, she asks, "Are you a virgin?" Instinctively, he starts to deny it, but she cuts him off, leaning forward with a hungry gleam in her eyes. "Oh, I'd_ **_love_ ** _to be your first! Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. I promise I can show you a_ **_wonderful_ ** _time."_

_Recognition finally catches up to him. Kairi has pointed this girl out before, whispering words like "loose" and "man-eater". His friend would be very disappointed in him if he gave in and had sex with this seductress, but there is something in the girl's eyes that is making him consider it. Unlike the bullies he must deal with every day, she is not out to break him. She wants him. He can see it in her gaze as it travels along the muscles in his arms, down to his slim hips and trim abs, and then back up to his cursed, pretty face._

_She_ **_wants_ ** _him. She wants_ **_him_ ** _._

_He shrugs._

_"Yeah, alright. Why not?"_

xXx

The paper in Riku's hands was wrinkled from many handlings, heavily creased along the fold lines, and slightly torn in a few places along the edges. The ink was fading in places from sunlight and smudged from rain in others. He had memorized the words long ago, so it didn't matter if a few were now illegible. Still, it comforted him at times to take the paper out and run his fingers along its surface, lingering on one word in particular. A name.

"Sora …"

Riku shut his eyes and sighed as the now-familiar name rolled from his tongue and slipped past his lips. He had expected these feelings to subside; he had thought his infatuation with the other boy just a passing fancy. They hadn't; it wasn't. Here he was, two whole months later, still as blown away by the mere memory of those blue eyes and that smile as he had been when he had first seen them. The intensity of his feelings scared him as did the thought that they might never be returned. He already felt half-mad from longing; if Sora rejected him, he would break apart completely.

The heavy tread of footsteps in the hall outside his room warned him of someone's approach. Not wanting to be caught with his heart on display, Riku shoved the paper back in his pocket and flopped down on his bed a second before Kadaj appeared in his doorway, the portable phone in his hand.

"Hey, 'Ku-ku," he called, grinning obnoxiously. "Phone for you."

Riku frowned heavily at his brother's irritating nickname for him but did not rise to the bait. Instead, he asked, "Who is it?"

"Dunno. Some chick."

"Is it Kairi?"

Kadaj shook his head, long bangs falling in front of his eyes. "Don't think so. Didn't sound like her."

Riku threw one arm across his eyes and with the other hand shooed Kadaj away. "Then I don't want to talk. Take a message for me."

Surprised by this, Kadaj scowled and took one step into the room. "Are you kidding?" he demanded, the teasing lilt to his voice now gone. "You're right there doing nothing and you want me to take a message?"

In response, Riku simply removed his arm and looked at his brother. It was a look that all the Gast boys understood. A look that said, 'I'm tired. I don't want to play the games anymore.' A look that they had all used on each other countless times over the years and one which they hid from all other eyes, especially their father.

And while Kadaj was the type of older brother who would push you right up to the line and then cross it without ever looking back, he respected that look whenever he saw it. After all, he had used it himself more times than any of them could remember.

The scowl melted away as he stepped back out into the hallway. "Fine," he said, his expression and voice unusually neutral.

Riku nodded and managed a smile for him. "Thanks, 'Daj."

The smallest hint of a sympathetic smile floated across Kadaj's face. Then, in the blink of an eye, the wild grin was back and he was talking to the unknown girl on the phone as he walked away. "Sorry, sweetheart, but little 'Ku is going through that special time of month right now. Anything I can do for you?"

Riku sighed and shut his eyes. He would probably have to do some damage control in school tomorrow. Trust Kadaj to make a bad situation worse. But he could deal with that later. For now at least, he could hide from the world and just rest with soft thoughts of his brunet angel.

His fingers slipped down to his pocket to trace the outline of the folded paper inside although they made no move to extract it. Instead, he called up the memory of the words in his mind and read them that way, a small smile entering his lips as the name appeared before him again.

_Sora_.

According to the information that Yuffie had given him, the Strife family would be moving into town sometime over the Christmas break. That gave Riku less than a month to devise a plan to sweep Sora off his feet, assuming he wanted to start in early January, which he did. Unfortunately, he had been working on said plan for two months now and had come up with pretty much nothing. It frustrated him to no end, but so far he had been unable to change the fact that, while he was an expert in seducing vapid teenage girls into his bed, he knew absolutely nothing about getting someone to fall in love with him. And of course it didn't help that in this case, the someone in question was a boy.

One hand lifted to Riku's head to tangle fingers in his hair in aggravation. He didn't even really have a plan to introduce himself to Sora. The other was a year behind him so they probably wouldn't be in any classes together, and he couldn't ask Kairi to introduce them without her wanting to know why he wanted her to do so. And the thought of just walking up to Sora and starting a random conversation made him cringe. Whenever he tried to imagine it, it always ended with Sora giving him a 'Who the hell are you?' look and walking away. If that happened in real life, Riku knew he'd collapse on the spot and just _die_.

Footsteps echoed down the hall again, and a moment later, someone knocked on his doorframe. Without opening his eyes, Riku scowled and demanded, "What do you want now, 'Daj?"

"Nothing much," a quiet voice that definitely did not belong to Kadaj replied. "I just wanted to say hello to my little brother who I haven't seen in months."

Riku's eyes shot open and he sat up straight on the bed. The person in the doorway smiled a little at his reaction and crossed his arms as he leaned against the frame. His hair had grown since Riku saw him last, and it looked like he had lost weight again. Overall, however, he looked the same: the spitting image of their father with the exception of a pair of soft eyes that others had told Riku came directly from their mother's face.

"Yazoo," Riku said, blinking in surprise. "I thought you were coming home with Loz."

Yazoo shrugged one shoulder, his trademark gesture. "I finished my last final yesterday, and Loz told me to go ahead without him. So I did." He fell silent, seemingly done speaking, but did not move away from the door.

In the minute or so of silence that followed, Riku took the opportunity to study the second brother of the family. Yazoo and Kadaj were extremely different, almost complete opposites. Kadaj was always moving, always making noise, as if he would cease to exist the moment he stopped. Yazoo, on the other hand, never seemed to move without a definite purpose in mind, and when he spoke, others listened because they knew that what he said was probably important and would not be repeated. Some people called him cold and unapproachable, but Riku knew the ice was just another shield, like Kadaj's forced wild behavior and his own fake self-confident swagger.

"You're still here," he said after they had stared at each other for several minutes.

"So I am," Yazoo replied easily.

"Why?"

That shrug again. "Kadaj said you were suffering from male PMS. I didn't think that was possible for anyone other than him." Riku laughed a little, but it faded away when he noticed a heavy gaze bearing down on him. "Care to share?" Yazoo asked, his voice a notch quieter and several degrees more gentle.

Swallowing, Riku looked away. No, he didn't really want to share. He honestly didn't think any of his brothers would understand what he was feeling. He didn't understand half of it, and he was the one feeling it! But Yazoo had already moved, pulling away from the door and walking over to the bed to sit down on it next to him. The older teen's expression was still soft, but it held a determination that Riku recognized and that made his stomach drop like a stone all the way through the floor. He was trapped.

"I-it's nothing," he said, making one final effort to get out of this. "I'm just a little depressed."

"Depressed," Yazoo repeated, his eyes never leaving Riku's face. "Why?"

"Well …" Riku hung his head and let his hair fall around his face to temporarily hide it from that gaze. Steeling himself, he inhaled slowly and then gave in. "There's … something I want," he admitted.

"I see." Yazoo waited for details, but none came. When it became apparent that Riku would say nothing else at the moment, he looked away, crossed his arms over his chest, and commented, "Riku, you're a Gast. If there's something you want, you get it. It's as simple as that."

"No," Riku replied miserably. "No, it's not that simple, Yaz. Because … because I don't just want to get it. I want to keep it."

Yazoo's eyebrows rose at this, and his arms uncrossed themselves to rest on either side of him. "You want to keep it?" he echoed. "You don't just want to throw it away once you're done with it?"

"Yes. Or, to be more specific, I don't think I'll ever be done with it. I think I'll want it for the rest of my life."

"Oh." Yazoo leaned back on his hands and gazed at Riku's ceiling. "That's … different," he said quietly.

"Yeah."

"I don't think any of us can give you advice on that."

"I know."

His brother paused for a moment, thinking; then, his eyes drifted downwards to connect green with green. "This thing we're talking about," he questioned, "is it Kairi?"

"No!" Riku cried immediately. A little shiver of revulsion sped through him at the thought. "No," he repeated, "she's like my sister. That would be weird. Just … no."

"But we are talking about a girl, yes?" the elder clarified.

Oh, if only the ground could open up right now and swallow him whole. "No," he admitted, cringing. "He's kind of a … boy."

To Riku's immense shock, Yazoo barely batted an eyelash at this. "Same idea," he commented, giving a one-shoulder shrug before looking away.

Riku's tight grip on his arm brought that gaze snapping back. "Are you serious?" he demanded of his brother, eyes shining with intense mixed emotions. "You're not surprised? Horrified? Disgusted?"

Yazoo smiled a little and used his free hand to pry his little brother's fingers off of him. When he had finished, he drew the smaller teen closer to him and began running his fingers through the other's hair. "'Ku," he said gently, "it's not as big a deal as you seem to think it is. Besides, Loz and I have both tried out male lovers before. Personally, I wasn't that impressed, but if that's what you want, I wish you well."

Riku pressed himself against Yazoo's side, feeling relief wash through his body in waves. It felt so very wonderful to know that at least one person was on his side. "Thanks, Yazoo," he murmured.

"You're welcome." Words fell away once more for a few moments as the older teen simply sat there, holding the younger in his arms and stroking his hair absently. In time, however, Yazoo's fingers stilled, and Riku felt the body he rested against stiffen ever so slightly. He looked up as Yazoo's voice floated over his head, sounding genuinely worried. "Father is going to be very disappointed in you if you start dating a boy."

"I know," Riku replied, offering his brother a brave smile. "But Sora is worth it."

"Sora," Yazoo echoed. The corners of his mouth lifted in a small smile, and Riku could see a hint of teasing enter those gentle green eyes. "That's a rather feminine name. Is that why you like him?"

The younger boy snorted and gave his brother a shove in the side, causing them to fall apart. "No," he replied, "that is not why I like him."

"Mmhmm …" The smile was slowly morphing into a smirk as the eyes that gazed at Riku began to dance with amusement.

"It's not!" Riku insisted, shoving him again. "Besides, having a girly name doesn't automatically make the guy girly. Uncle Laguna isn't girly in the slightest."

"No," Yazoo agreed, "but Uncle Laguna is a twit." He shook his head and shifted his gaze to stare off into space. "You have no idea how much I pity cousin Squall," he commented.

For a heartbeat or two, Riku considered whether to tell Yazoo about Sora's relation to their cousin, but before he could make a decision, another voice came screaming down the hall.

"Yo, Riku! Phone for you again!"

Yazoo sighed and turned towards the door as the sound of stomping feet approached. "Father would tan your hide if he heard you yelling in the house, Kadaj," the older brother warned.

"Yeah well, Father isn't here right now," Kadaj shot back, finally appearing in the doorway, "so fuck you, Yaz."

Both Yazoo and Riku gave their brother identical looks of surprise at the venom in his voice and the heavy frown on his face. "What the hell, 'Daj?" Riku asked. "Who jammed a stick up your ass?"

Kadaj just snarled at him and held out the phone like an accusation. "It's Yuffie." When Riku rose to come get it, he added in a lower tone, "Although what _my_ future girlfriend wants with _you_ , I have no idea."

His older brother rolled his eyes at him with a heavy sigh. "For Christ's sake, Kadaj, the woman is too old for me, and I'm two years older than you."

"Like I said, Yaz, fuck you." He shifted his hard gaze to his younger brother and added, "And fuck you, too, while I'm at it."

"No thank you," Riku replied easily, taking the phone from Kadaj. When he lifted it to his ear, he could hear Yuffie in the middle of a laughing fit, no doubt brought on by the lovely sibling interaction that had just occurred. "Hello?"

"Hey, Ri! Sounds like everything's pretty normal at your house, huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that." He raised an eyebrow at Kadaj who had not moved and asked, "Aren't you going to go?"

"No way," the other replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "I want to know what you two talk about."

Riku just rolled his eyes at him and went back to his conversation. "So, Yuffie, what's up?"

"I wanted to let you know that the Strifes are moving in this weekend."

His heart stopped. Or at least, that's what it felt like. It was certainly a hundred times harder to breathe. "Really?" he gasped.

"Yeah," she replied. Across the room, Yazoo was giving him a concerned look, but Riku shook his head in an attempt to tell him he was fine - which he wasn't. "I'm going to be there when they show up," Yuffie was continuing, "to help them unpack and stuff, and I was thinking that some extra help might be a good idea. Are you, by any chance, interested?"

"Yes!" The word came out like a gunshot, startling everyone in the room, including Riku himself.

Yuffie just laughed. "I thought you might be," she teased. "Get something to write with and I'll give you the address."

Both of his brothers were giving him strange looks, but Riku didn't care as he bolted over to his desk and scrabbled around for a pen and a spare piece of paper. After carefully writing down the directions that Yuffie provided, he finally found himself able to breathe again and used the newfound air to thank her profusely.

"You're welcome," she laughed at him, but then her tone turned serious. "But Ri, remember, don't do anything stupid."

"I know," he assured her. "If I do, you'll kill me, then Leon will kill me, and then Vincent will use his vampire black magic to bring me back from the dead so that _he_ can kill me. Believe me, I know."

"All right then. See you there, Ri."

"See you, Yuffie. And thanks again."

He ended the call and just stood there for a moment, head buzzing and heart beating wildly. Sora was coming. He would be there this upcoming weekend. And Yuffie had given him the perfect opportunity to introduce himself and offer a welcoming hand of friendship. No school, no peers, no way for all of Riku's baggage to destroy his chances before they had even begun. Just him and Sora - and Yuffie and Sora's family and a truck full of boxes and furniture, but still, it couldn't have been more perfect.

Grinning widely, Riku turned and found himself pinned by two green gazes, one angry, one amused.

"So?" Kadaj demanded. "What the hell was that about?"

Riku didn't answer immediately, but his face told the eldest all he needed to know. "Sora?" he asked.

"Yeah," Riku admitted, still grinning like a fool.

Kadaj's frown deepened. "Who's So-?" His face cleared as recognition dawned. "One of those twins, right?" he asked. When Riku only turned slightly red in response, he threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Well, isn't this just fantastic? Our dear little brother, man-whore to the entire female population of school, has a _crush_ on a _guy_! That's just _priceless_!"

Yazoo was on his feet and at Kadaj's side faster than Riku could blink. The elder wrapped his fingers around his brother's arm and yanked on him until they were eye to eye, their nearly identical green gazes locked together.

"You're not going to tease Riku, are you, Kadaj?" Yazoo asked in a friendly, even voice. No threat was audible, but both younger teens could hear it all the same.

Kadaj, however, didn't seem to care. "What?" he demanded, pulling on his arm to try to free it from Yazoo's hold. "You've got to be kidding! He's my little brother. It's my God-given right to tease the ever-loving shit out of him at every possible opportunity." When Yazoo responded by tightening his grip, Kadaj rolled his eyes and added, "I'm not going to tease him in front of Father. For God's sake, have a little faith. I'm not stupid, you know."

The fingers around Kadaj's arm loosened but did not let go. "And you won't tease him at school either," Yazoo stated.

"Well fuck, Yaz, when _am_ I allowed to tease him? … _Ah!_ … Okay, okay, I promise! Just let go of my arm, will ya?"

Finally, Yazoo uncurled his fingers, and Kadaj ripped his arm out of his grasp with an indignant huff. Muttering various obscenities under his breath, the younger teen snatched the phone back from Riku and stomped out, his angry footsteps echoing loudly through the hallway as he made his way back downstairs. Riku waited until they could no longer hear him to turn to Yazoo who had not moved from his position near the door.

"Thanks, Yaz. For sticking up for me."

His brother smiled a little and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. "I was more than happy to help," he replied calmly. "Kadaj can be a twit himself sometimes. Besides, I'm curious."

"Curious?" Riku asked, moving to sit on his bed once more. "What about?"

For a long moment, Yazoo did not reply. He merely stood there with his hands in his pockets and his eyes out of focus. When he finally did speak, it was to voice a question of his own. "Riku, this Sora boy. Do you love him?"

Surprised, Riku choked down the lump that had formed in his throat and tried to answer without squeaking. "I think so. Yes."

Yazoo nodded, still not looking at him. In a soft, distant voice, he explained, "I've never been in love myself. To my knowledge, none of us have. To be in love, you have to trust someone else. Risk the possibility of being hurt by opening up to someone with the belief that she will not use that knowledge against you. There have only been two women in my life with whom I have ever considered being that intimate, and in both cases I decided that whatever benefit I might gain, it was not worth the risk. Ultimately, I decided that love was not worth it."

He lifted his head and finally focused his eyes on his brother who watched him in quiet understanding. "When you find out," he said solemnly, "I would appreciate it if you would tell me if it is worth it."

"If I find out," Riku corrected sadly.

But Yazoo shook his head. "No. When you find out. Remember, Riku, you are a Gast. It is a blessing, it is a curse, it is what defines us. And Gasts always get what they want." He smiled, finally allowing some kindness to enter his eyes again. "Even when they want to keep what they want."

Feeling more confident than he had in a long time, Riku smiled back. "Especially when they want to keep what they want."

The renewed strength in his voice made his brother chuckle. "Exactly," he finished. "I'll leave you alone now. I need to unpack anyway."

"All right. Thanks ag-" A loud crash cut Riku off, and a string of foul language floated up the stairs immediately afterwards.

"Goddammit, Yazoo!" Kadaj screamed up at them. "Don't leave your fucking suitcases in the middle of the fucking hall! I almost broke my neck, goddammit!"

Yazoo lifted a hand and gently rubbed his forehead above his left eye. "He never used to swear this much before I left," he commented offhandedly. "Does he do this all the time?"

"No, only when he's pissed," Riku answered. "But this is pretty normal for when he is."

"God," Yazoo complained, and he quickly turned and left the room. Riku strained his ears to hear the elder's response as he descended the stairs. "Kadaj, if you talk like this once Loz gets home, he's going to make you eat so much soap that you'll be shooting out bubbles whenever you blow your nose."

"Go fuck yourself. God knows it's the only way a frigid bastard like you is gonna get laid."

"Your maturity astounds me. You truly have blossomed since I saw you last, little brother."

"Shut up, you self-satisfied cocksucker."

"And such an amazing vocabulary, too. Have you been studying for the SATs?"

Trying not to laugh too hard, Riku stood up, crossed to his door, and shut it. As entertaining as the verbal fight downstairs was, he suspected it would eventually escalate into something more physical, and when Father came home to find a section of the first floor blown to pieces, Riku wanted the safety of plausible deniability. He couldn't afford to be grounded, not when he had such important plans for the weekend.

Downstairs, something crashed to the ground, and Riku immediately sprang into action. Jumping onto his bed, he quickly shoved his earbuds into his ears, dug his history textbook out of his backpack, and settled in for a long session of in-depth reading. It would be torture, he knew, but he would endure it for the sake of seeing Sora in a few days. If it were for Sora, Riku knew he would endure just about anything.


	15. Sora

_Fourteen, and his world is upside-down. Again. It's happened to him so much that, really, he should be used to it by now. All the previous times, he had his twin to keep him company, and the last time everything changed like this it was the best moment of his life. However, this time he is alone, and he doubts it will be easy, considering everything he's heard on the subject._

_Yet he has made his decision. He is going to tell them. Starting with his mother, since she is the most likely to react favorably - or at least not_ **_too_ ** _negatively. He expects some fallout from his father, and even some from Roxas, but hopefully she will know how to soften the blows. If she rejects him, though, he knows he is doomed._

_He finds her in her garden, pulling weeds and dead-heading her roses. She is humming quietly to herself as she works, her voice lingering in the humid, summer air. He approaches slowly from behind, his worry making him hang back and hesitate. His resolve is wavering, and the feeling worsens with every step. She looks rather preoccupied and so very content. It would be a shame to disturb her. Perhaps he should wait until another time … no! He inhales deeply and straightens his spine. He is going to do this. His parents have spent the last two years trying to build confidence within him. He isn't going to fail them now._

_Telling himself that he is confident and strong, he takes the final steps to her and speaks. "Mom?"_

_Why, if he is so confident, does his voice sound so squeaky?_

_She turns her head and smiles at him. "Yes, Sora?"_

_"Can we … talk … a minute?" There must be a mouse stuck in his throat. There_ **_must_ ** _be._

_"Of course." She rises to her feet, taking off her gardening gloves and brushing the excess dirt off her jeans. Her gentle green eyes look at him expectantly, and when he hesitates further, she prompts, "What's wrong?"_

_He swallows. How does one lead up to something like this? Oh, screw it. Might as well jump right in. "Mom, I think there might be the possibility that I kind of might be sort of … gay. I'm not sure though," he adds quickly. "I just think I might be. But I might not. I might be normal. Who knows? I mean … I …" Embarrassed, he snaps his babbling mouth shut._

**_Good, Sora_ ** _, he tells himself._ **_Way to be assertive_ ** _._

_She blinks in shock, not expecting the announcement at all. But then, to his bone-melting relief, she smiles. "Are you not sure because you really don't know or because you're afraid of what my reaction will be?"_

_He hangs his head and digs one sneakered toe into the dirt, not wanting to admit the truth. "Um … yes?"_

_She laughs, and the next moment, her hand is in his hair, tousling his messy brown locks fondly. "Well," she tells him, "you don't need to worry about me or Cloud. We'll love you either way."_

_"Really?" he asks, lifting happy, hopeful eyes. "It's okay?"_

_"Absolutely."_

_"And you really think it'll be okay with Dad, too?"_

_To his surprise and confusion, her smile turns sad. "Yes, Sora. I promise you that your being gay won't affect your father's opinion of you in the slightest."_

_The melancholy in her face is strange, but at the moment, he is too overjoyed to question it. Feeling as if his face will split from the width of his smile, he throws himself at her and hugs her tightly. She returns the embrace, holding him close with strong, gentle arms._

_"Hey, Mom! Have you seen … ? Oh, there you are, Sora."_

_They both look up to find Roxas standing in the open back door, a half-eaten apple in one hand. Buoyed up by his joy and confidence, he steps back from his mother and announces, "Hey, Roxas, I think I'm gay."_

_His brother doesn't even bat an eyelid. "Makes sense," the blond replies. "After all, so am I. That okay, Mom?"_

_"Of course, Roxas."_

_"Okay then," Roxas shrugs. "Sora, it's your turn to take out the trash." He takes a bite of the apple and wanders back into the house._

_As the door shuts behind his twin, he catches his mother's eye. She smiles brightly at him, a gesture that he returns, and a moment later the two of them have dissolved into bubbling waves of joyous laughter._

xXx

It was a wonder that none of them had gone mad yet. Sora loved his father and his brother, he truly did, but even he was starting to hate the sight of their faces. After spending the last two days crammed into the front seat of the U-Haul which had been built for two people, not three, he had to admit that his nerves were frayed beyond description. It truly was a miracle of biblical proportions that none of them were foaming at the mouth or babbling about talking chipmunks building spaceships and taking over the world.

When the truck finally pulled into the driveway of their new home, Sora was just about ready to cry for joy. His hands were on the door handle and pulling before the vehicle had even stopped.

"Here we are," Cloud announced unnecessarily as the passenger door flew open. Anything else he might have said was lost as Sora scrambled out of the truck, Roxas hot on his heels. His twin slammed the door shut as Sora took a few steps towards the house, taking in the sight of it with a leaping heart. Even the dry, biting December air, slicing through Sora's hair and trying to worm its way down the neck of his coat, could do nothing to quell his happiness at finally being out of that stupid truck and being here at last.

Their previous home had been comfortable and perfectly adequate, but it had been one of many squashed together in a row with minimal privacy from the neighbors and no lawn to speak of. This house was the house of his dreams. A two-story, colonial style situated on a cul-de-sac with a fenced-in back yard (perfect for a dog) and a large front yard. He knew from being inside that there were enough rooms for both boys to have their own, a separate bathroom for their dad so they wouldn't have to share, a furnished basement, a laundry room, even a working fireplace. Outside was just as perfect, with several trees, a plot for a vegetable garden in the back, and a rear deck. It even had a mailbox at the end of the driveway. With geese on it.

"Pinch me, Rox," he sighed. "I'm dreaming."

His brother rolled his eyes at him and slapped him upside the head instead. "Stop dreaming and start moving," the blond replied. "We've got a ton of stuff to get inside. And it's _cold_ out here."

"I know, I know," Sora answered, still grinning widely as he rubbed his head. "Just give me a minute more to enjoy it all."

Roxas's reply was cut off by the sound of a honking horn. Both boys turned and saw Yuffie exiting the passenger side of a car that they had not noticed as they pulled in.

"Hey!" she yelled, waving one gloved hand above her head. "You're late!" She slammed the door of the car and began running up the driveway towards them.

Sora made to reply, but his father suddenly appeared from the other side of the truck and cut him off.

"I know," Cloud called to Yuffie. "Traffic was terrible. Construction everywhere." He moved to join the boys, but instead of walking all the way around their sedan which had been hitched to the back of the truck, he leapt onto the running board and gracefully picked his way to the other side, jumping back onto the ground with ease because their dad was just _cool_ like that. While Sora and Roxas both grinned with pride, Cloud dug into his pocket and produced several sets of keys, beginning to sort through them.

Before he could find the right one, Yuffie tackled him. "That's okay," she chirped, ignoring his grunt of annoyance. "I'm just glad you're here." She turned to Sora and Roxas and grinned, "Hiya, rugrats! Trip okay for you?"

"We're _not_ -" Roxas started, but his words cut off with a sharp "Oof!" as Yuffie grabbed him. Sora started to laugh but stopped when he was also pulled into a bone-crushing hug from their eternally energetic "aunt". He suddenly found himself wishing for the interior of the truck again. It had been cramped in there, but at least he had been able to _breathe_.

"Yuffie, please don't kill my sons," Cloud said calmly as both boys fought for their lives. Over the sounds of their struggle and Yuffie's laughter, they heard another car door slam and then the even tread of feet up the driveway.

"I have some rope in my trunk," a deep voice announced, surprising Sora and momentarily distracting him from his fight. "Would you like me to tie her up and dump her in a ditch somewhere?"

"Thank you," Cloud answered, "but that won't be necessary. I wouldn't mind a gag though, if you have one available."

"Hey!" Yuffie cried, releasing both of the boys and turning to face the two men behind her. "I'm right here, you know!"

"Believe us, we know," replied the newcomer who, now that Yuffie had stopped crushing him, Sora could see was in fact Leon, their father's ex-boyfriend and the love of his life. The tall man was dressed in faded jeans and sneakers, coat and gloves, and had pulled his excess hair into a small ponytail at the back of his neck. He looked, like Yuffie, ready for the manual labor that moving the Strife family into their house would entail.

Sora was stunned. His father had not said a word about Leon since they had returned from their initial trip two months ago. The last thing he and Roxas had been able to squeeze out of him was that they had talked, civilly, and while nothing had been resolved, they had finally managed to tell each other the truth. It hadn't sounded very promising to Sora. Certainly not promising enough to warrant the other man's presence here now.

Shocked and confused, he turned to his brother and found a similar expression on the other's face. Roxas also looked a bit distrustful, a trait that Sora knew had been born from their years in the orphanages and would most likely never fade completely. Ignoring the adults who continued to talk, Sora's and Roxas's identical sets of blue eyes connected, and Sora's asked, _What's_ **_he_ ** _doing here?_

_Dunno_ , Roxas's eyes replied. _How's Dad?_

Sora twisted his head to look at Cloud. The older man's expression looked normal, but his shoulders were slightly tensed and his stance mildly defensive. A quick survey of Leon's body language revealed the same hidden signs. Both men were wary around the other but not hostile. It almost seemed to Sora that there was a truce in place between them and that, while they were both ready for the war to begin again at a moment's notice, they also viewed this encounter as a possible opening to friendlier relations.

_I think he's okay_ , he told Roxas. _I don't think we should worry_.

_Okay_ , Roxas agreed, albeit reluctantly. Any other reply he might have made was cut off by a dark-haired shadow swooping down and attacking them.

"Aww!" Yuffie cooed, grabbing each of them by a cheek. "They're so cute when they talk telepathically to each other. I'm so jealous!"

"Aunt Yuffie!" Roxas cried, batting at her viciously. "Cut it out!" Sora just squealed and tried to pry the woman's pinching fingers off of his face.

Sighing, Cloud resumed his search through his keys. "I suppose I should hurry up and get things started before I have a homicide on my hands," he commented. By the time the boys had successfully fought off their aunt, he had found the one he wanted and bent down to unlock the car from the back of the truck. When he had finished, that key went back into his pocket, and another unlocked the car itself. "Here," he said, handing two other keys to Leon. "This one opens the house, and this one unlocks the back of the truck. I'm going to put the car in the garage, so if you want to get started without me, you can."

Leon nodded and accepted the keys. "Right."

Cloud leapt up on the running board again, planning on moving over to the driver's side, but before he could, another car screeched to a halt at the end of the driveway. The assembled group all turned and stared as the passenger side door of the new car opened almost immediately, the figure who fell out grumbling, "Geez, Yaz, you drive like a frigging _maniac_!"

A cool voice replied from the interior of the car, "I got you here in one piece, didn't I?"

"Yeah," the passenger said, "and I even got to watch my whole life going by as entertainment." He slammed the door shut and turned to face them.

Sora's breath caught in his throat. The stranger looked like a model or a movie star. The platinum blond hair that brushed his shoulders shone like spun gold in the sun, and his slightly slanted eyes were a glittering green. His face had just enough femininity in it to be beautiful but not enough to destroy the overall masculinity that his athletic body exuded. In short, he was gorgeous.

"Wow," he whispered to his twin.

Roxas caught his eye and shrugged. "Pretty" wasn't his type.

"Riku," they heard Leon say with surprising hostility. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to help," the boy, Riku, replied, taking a few steps towards them. He wore a slightly shy smile on his face which Sora thought made him look positively enchanting. For the briefest of moments, those green eyes glanced at him, but they looked away before Sora could react. "Yuffie told me the Strifes were moving in today, so I thought I'd come offer what help I could."

Leon looked like he wanted to say something nasty in reply, but before he could the passenger window of the car rolled down and another gorgeous blond, this one older, leaned over from the driver's seat to call out the window. "Oh Cousin Squall, Riku will need a ride home when you're done. You'll give him one, won't you?"

"Why can't you come pick him up?" Leon snapped back, shocking Sora with his ferocity.

"Because I have to pick Loz up from the train station," the driver replied easily, not at all intimidated. "You're already taking Yuffie home. Dropping off Riku shouldn't be that much of an inconvenience for you."

For some reason that Sora didn't understand, it certainly looked like it would be an inconvenience for Leon, but thankfully, Cloud chose that moment to step in and defuse the situation. "If he's here to help, then I'll take him home if necessary," he announced. He waved a little at the driver. "Go on ahead and don't worry about him. Someone will take him home."

"Thank you," the other said as the window rolled back up. The next moment, the car sped away, taking the intersection onto the main road with far more speed than was necessary or safe.

Riku took a moment to shake his head in disbelief at the retreating car, but then he walked up the driveway with firm steps and a straight back. Those eyes darted to Sora again, sending little shivers up the brunet's spine, but they fled quickly, fixing themselves on Cloud as he approached the man. Once he was close enough, he stopped and held out his hand with a polite smile. "I'm Leon's cousin, Riku Gast," he introduced himself. "Yuffie told me you're an old college friend of my cousin's. It's very nice to meet you."

As they shook hands, Sora couldn't help the smile that spread over his face - gorgeous _and_ well-mannered, a good combination - but the expression faltered when he saw his father's brow crease in mild irritation. "Gast," the blond man echoed in a tone that made both Sora and Roxas flinch. "I met a lawyer by that name once. I was called to testify in a case of breach of contract. It should have been a simple trial, easily resolved. That jackass turned it into a circus that dragged for months. By the end of it, I was ready to strangle him myself."

Riku's face had paled and his eyes had widened in worry. "That was my father," he admitted in a low voice.

"Really?" Cloud said, drawing out his voice in disapproval.

"Yes, sir." In an instant, Riku had bowed his head and rapidly spit out, "Please allow me to take this opportunity to apologize to you, sir, for any insult or injury my father may have done to you. I assure you that I came here today without any hostile plans or ill intentions."

"I'm not sure I'm ready to believe that," Leon cut in, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the blond boy. "What are you up to, Riku? This isn't like you."

"Oh, come on, Leon," Yuffie chastised him. She slid up to his side and punched him lightly in the arm. "Give the kid the benefit of the doubt. You just don't like him because he's family."

"No," Leon argued, glaring at her. "I don't like him because he's a -"

"Soooo," Yuffie cut him off, turning to Cloud with a flourish. "Are we going to start moving your junk or not? Don't know about the rest of you, but I'm freezing out here!" Next to her, Leon fumed at being interrupted, but he shut his mouth and looked away, apparently willing to drop the subject for now. For Sora, however, the unsaid words hung tantalizingly in the air, and he found himself wondering why anyone could not like Riku.

"Yeah, all right," Cloud replied to Yuffie's comment, breaking Sora's thoughts. His father twirled the keys to the car on one finger and got back up on the rear of the truck, this time making it all the way across. "Everybody move out of the way," he ordered as he opened the driver's door.

Sora stumbled slightly as Roxas grabbed him around the arm and yanked him backwards to the side of the driveway. When he regained his footing, he looked up to find that Leon had captured Riku and pulled him to the other side where both males were in a heated, low-voiced discussion, Yuffie standing nearby and interjecting every so often, presumably in Riku's defense. Sora watched the argument in confusion as Cloud backed the sedan away from the truck, moved it around to one side, and pulled it forward into the garage. Leon's obvious anger made no sense to him. Riku seemed really nice. Even the way he argued and pleaded with his cousin had a kind of gentleness to it. It made Sora want to run over there and yell at Leon for being mean.

Roxas's whispering voice in his ear made him jump. "Stop drooling."

Recovering himself quickly, Sora turned to his grinning twin with a frown. "I am not drooling," he protested. "I'm just trying to figure out why Leon is so against him."

"Uh-huh," Roxas replied dryly. "Sure. And if you get to enjoy the scenery at the same time, you aren't going to complain, right?" He laughed when Sora pouted at him, but then his expression turned serious as he added, "Be careful, Sora. A guy that good-looking usually knows just how good-looking he is."

Sora rolled his eyes at him. "God, Rox, you worry too much. All I've done is look at him, and already you've got us having relationship problems."

His brother shook his head at him, frowning. "You've looked at him, and he's looked at you, and I'm not blind or stupid. Just be smart, Sora. That guy's high-maintenance, mark my words."

"I'll mark 'em," Sora replied with a sigh, "but I doubt I'll ever need 'em." He smiled sadly at his twin. "After all, no one I've crushed on has ever looked twice at me. I'm sure this guy will be no different."

Roxas made to comment, but his words were drowned out by the rumbling sound of the back of the truck opening. A low whistle rang out next, followed by Leon's deep voice saying, "Now _that_ is a nice bike."

The words made Sora grin, and he and Roxas exchanged identical expressions of pride before sprinting over to the truck to join Leon, Yuffie, and Riku. The interior of the truck was exactly as they had left it: dozens of boxes stacked on top of each other in rows and tied down to the floor, all on the right side of the truck. On the left side sat Cloud's motorcycle in all its adrenaline-pumping, testosterone-fueled glory.

"That's Fenrir," Sora announced brightly as Leon continued to stare hungrily at the machine. "Mom just about had a heart attack when Dad brought it home the first time."

"I bet," Leon replied with a low chuckle. His gray eyes found Cloud as the other man returned from the garage. "Fenrir, huh?" he asked. "You named your bike?"

Cloud shrugged and pulled himself into the back of the truck to start untying his baby from the wall. "Why not?" he asked back. "You named your necklace."

Sora inhaled sharply through his nose as Leon instantly and visibly stiffened. Cloud, however, simply looked at the other man with calm, almost tender eyes.

Yuffie, if she had noticed the tension, didn't seem to care. "You have a necklace, boss? I've never seen it. What is it? I can't imagine you wearing jewelry."

"It was a lion pendant," Cloud answered her, his attention once more on his bike. "And I'm not surprised you've never seen it. I doubt he even has it anymore." The last tie on the bike came free, and he stood up to roll the bike to the exit. "Okay, everyone move. As soon as I get Fenrir in the garage, we can start toting the boxes to the house."

Sora obeyed, his eyes never leaving the tall man who had once loved his father enough to bestow a name on a present that he had given to him. Or at least, that was what Sora assumed had happened based on what had been said with words and what had been said with body language. Leon's eyes were empty, fixed on the ground as he moved out of the way, but once Cloud had passed him with the bike, his eyes lifted and watched the other man walk away with a conflicted, almost hurt expression.

Caught up in the dramatic past of the older men, Sora didn't even notice who was standing beside him until a soft voice said, "Hey."

Jumping slightly, the brunet turned his head and found himself staring into smiling green eyes. His mind promptly decided to take a vacation and left at once without leaving a forwarding address.

"Uh … um … hey," he finally managed.

A hand extended towards him. "I'm Riku," the beautiful blond said. "Are you Sora or Roxas?"

"Sora," Sora replied, once again in control of his own brain. He took Riku's hand and shook it, reveling in the warmth he could feel even through two pairs of gloves. "It's nice to meet you. You're Leon's cousin?"

"Yes, on my mother's side. Leon's mother and my mother were sisters."

Riku's choice of words sent Sora's eyebrows scurrying into his bangs. "'Were'?"

"Ah," Riku replied, lowering his eyes. "My mother died when I was born."

"Oh! I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay." Riku lifted those hypnotizing eyes again and smiled, making Sora's heart positively melt. "I'm sixteen," he informed the brunet. "A junior at Jefferson. You?"

"Fifteen," Sora answered. "I'll be a sophomore once we transfer in."

"Cool. I can show you and your brother around if you like."

"That would be awesome! Thanks."

"Riku!" Cloud's voice cut into their conversation. Both boys turned to find the older man standing at the edge of the truck, a box in his arms. "Here," he said, indicating the box. "You came to help, right? Make yourself useful."

"Yes, sir," Riku said immediately, crossing to Cloud's side. He held out his arms for the box, but when Cloud gave it to him, his face instantly reddened with exertion and he staggered slightly under its weight.

Concerned, Sora took a closer look at the box and recognized it as one that held nothing but his father's engineering textbooks. "Dad!" he protested loudly.

Cloud lifted one eyebrow at him in a look that dared him to say anything else. While Sora shrank back, subdued, Cloud said to Riku, "Take that one up to the room at the left end of the hall upstairs. Not the master bedroom, the other room." He picked up another box and called, "Sora, this one is yours."

While Riku slowly moved away, trying not to drop the burden he had been given, Sora crossed to his father and snatched the box angrily. "Dad," he hissed. "I can't believe you."

"What?" Cloud asked innocently. He easily hefted up another heavy box of books and leapt down from the truck, walking briskly towards the house. Sora frowned after him for a moment, then ran to catch up to Riku who had barely made it to the sidewalk.

"Put that one down," he told the other boy. "It's way too heavy for you. You can have this one, and I'll get another one from the truck."

"No," Riku gasped, moving slowly but steadily forward. "I can do it." When Sora started to protest again, the blond boy turned a strained but determined face to him, silencing him immediately. "He's testing me," Riku said with a small smile. "I'm not going to fail it." He managed an actual wink at Sora before refocusing all his attention on transporting the box in his arms. The simple gesture sent a wave of admiration and respect crashing through Sora's body, and he suddenly felt very grateful that Riku was busy with his task and couldn't see the blush that had taken over the younger boy's face.

Into the house and all the way up the stairs to the second floor, the brunet followed behind the blond, mainly so that, if Riku were to fall down backwards, he would at least have his fall cushioned by Sora. The trek up the stairs was long and tense - made worse by Yuffie standing at the bottom chanting "Go, Riku, go!" until Leon came by and told her to shut up and get back to work - but eventually the older boy had reached his destination and knelt on the floor next to the heavy box, quietly panting in an attempt to regain his breath. Sora, who had deposited his box in his own room on the way past, stood next to him, wishing that he was brave enough to gently rub that back or pull that beautiful hair away from that perfect face in an affectionate show of support.

"Congrats," he said instead, trying not to wince from how completely lame that sounded.

"Thanks," Riku gasped, sending Sora a smile that made his heart go jack-rabbiting up his chest and into his throat. God, the boy was gorgeous! Even when sweaty and exhausted.

Sora grimaced at himself. _Bad thoughts, Sora. Very bad_. Thankfully, Riku had turned away again and missed the expression on his face and the little thump he gave himself in the middle of the forehead.

When they got back to the truck to find Cloud once again in the back, Sora was afraid the whole mess would start again, but thankfully Cloud had decided that Riku's success with the monster box, all without complaint or hesitation, had made up for anything his father may have done. The older blond handed over a much lighter box with a small smile and then gave one to his son before passing a heavy one to Leon and picking another up for himself. The relief and happiness on Riku's face was evident, and it made Sora grin brightly at the other boy as the two returned to the house.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly and without incident. With six of them working together, they managed to unload the truck in just slightly over an hour. By the time the door rumbled back down, closing off their view of an empty U-Haul, Sora's arms and legs felt like runny jelly, but he also felt triumphant, proud, and just generally good. As Cloud locked the back of the truck with one of his many sets of keys, Sora flopped down in the grass, spread-eagled, and heaved a huge sigh.

Roxas's toe prodded him in the side. "Get up, idiot," his brother ordered with a tired smile. "You're going to freeze out here."

"But I'm exhausted! I don't wanna move."

"Come on, Sora," Riku encouraged, looking dirty, worn out, and yet still gorgeous. "Roxas is right. Collapse inside the house."

"No," the boy whined, shutting his eyes against both of them. "Don't wanna. And you can't make me."

"Oh yeah?" he heard Roxas say, and in the next moment, both of his arms were seized and yanked. Sora yelped as his body began to drag across the grass. He looked up and backwards to find that the two blonds had each grabbed an arm and were hauling him bodily to the house.

"Wait! Stop! I'll get up! Guys! Stop!"

"Nope," his twin replied cheerfully. "You had your chance. Now take your punishment."

"Wah!" Sora cried as his backside met the rough sidewalk and began to bounce along it. "Dad! Help me!"

Cloud just paused in his discussion with Yuffie and Leon about local pizzerias, raised one eyebrow at the boys, and turned away again to finish talking.

"I don't know why Leon hates you," Roxas was saying as Sora continued to cry and struggle, "but as far as I'm concerned, Riku, you're okay."

"Thanks," Riku replied. "Now, how do we get him up the front step and into the house?"

"Yank, of course."

"No! Let me up! I promise I won't be lazy anymore! Please! Roxas? Riku? Aaahh!"

xXx

After a dinner of pizza and sodas, eaten in a circle on the floor of their new family room since their dining room furniture had been left in a heap by the professional movers, Sora trudged up the stairs to his bedroom, Riku and Roxas following a few steps behind. The tired brunet hadn't quite decided whether he was ready to forgive his brother yet. On the one hand, Roxas had subtly arranged things so that Sora could sit next to Riku while they ate; on the other hand, Sora's butt still hurt from being forcibly lifted over the concrete front step. He might just have to find a way to get back at his twin for that. Riku he had forgiven when the older boy had apologized at dinner.

"I'm going to start unpacking my clothes and stuff," Roxas announced, turning into his room. "Riku, you can go help Sora."

Sora's shoulders tensed and his face flushed - could his twin have been any more obvious? - but thankfully, Riku didn't seem to notice. "Okay. Sure," he replied.

Roxas nodded and, after giving Sora one last mild warning with his eyes, retreated to his room and shut the door behind him. Sighing with irritation, Sora turned to his own room and tramped inside. What was the deal with Roxas anyway? Practically throwing Riku at him and then giving Sora "Behave yourself" looks? The brunet really hoped that his brother would find a romantic interest of his own soon so Sora could tease, irritate, and confuse him right back.

"Sora?" Riku said, causing the other boy to realize that he had been frowning at a wall for a minute or so.

"Sorry," he apologized with a smile. "Just spaced out for a minute." He glanced around at the many boxes stacked in his room and, picking one, suggested, "You can unload that one. It has a bunch of my books in it. They can go on the shelf there and any papers you find can just be stacked on the desk."

"Okay," Riku agreed, moving to the box in question. "Do you want me to organize the books in any way, like alphabetically by author?"

"Nah," Sora replied, grabbing a box of clothes and opening it. "I'll do that later. For now, just stick them on the shelf."

"Okay."

As Riku opened his box and began unloading the books, Sora began transferring clothes into his dresser and closet, letting his mind drift away as he worked. He and Riku had talked a lot, both while they emptied the truck and while they ate dinner, and Sora was prepared to say that his simple appreciation of the other's looks had grown into a full-blown crush. Riku was smart, funny, and really nice in addition to being super hot. He seemed like a guy who would make a fantastic friend and a devoted, caring boyfriend. He was, in a word, perfect.

Which depressed Sora to no end. After all, he wasn't perfect. He was on the short side, had big feet, and his hair always stuck up in odd places. He was smart, but years of being in orphanages and foster homes had given him less than ideal study skills and sometimes he struggled with things that other kids found easy. And while his brother found him funny, other kids often just dismissed him as goofy. He tended to be klutzy, too, and of course, he was still getting over his near-paralyzing shyness. There was no way someone as sexy, brilliant, and confident as Riku would be interested in him.

Sighing, Sora bent down to his box, only to find that he had emptied it.

"Hey, Sora? What do you want me to do with the empty box?"

Sora turned to Riku who was holding up his own box, also empty. "I was just trying to figure that out myself," he admitted, scratching the back of his head with one hand. "If I were a bit younger, I'd say make a fort out of them, but I don't think we have the room in here."

Riku chuckled at him, a sound that made Sora's heart pick up speed, and suggested, "We could just flatten them and pile them in the corner."

"I guess," Sora conceded, "but it would be more fun to kick them down the stairs. Or better yet," he added with a grin as an idea occurred to him, "stuff Roxas in one and then kick it down the stairs. Payback for dragging me into the house like that."

Riku was outright laughing at him now. "Sora, I don't think you could fit Roxas into a box that small."

"Sure I could!" the younger boy argued. "Watch." He stepped into his own box and crouched down, squirming around inside until he had managed to fit his small body sideways into the space with enough room at the top to close the flaps. "See?" he announced. "I knew I could do it."

The blond boy had crossed the room to him and was looking down at him with an amused smirk. "Impressive," he commented. "Now, how are you going to get out of there?"

Sora tried to stand up but found that, with his legs squashed up against his side like they were, he couldn't find enough space to unbend his knees. After a moment of futile struggling, he lifted his hands to Riku and replied, "You're going to help me out, that's how."

"Maybe I should kick you down the stairs instead," Riku joked, but he grasped onto Sora's hands with his own and pulled.

Sora would later blame what happened next on a combination of Riku's strength and his own klutziness. As Riku pulled him upwards, Sora's legs straightened so suddenly that his large feet could not find adequate footing and he stumbled. Unfortunately, he was still inside the box, so when his feet stuttered forward, they hit the cardboard walls which tipped him off-balance. The box chose that moment to tip as well, propelling Sora forward and into Riku who, unprepared for an armful of descending Sora, fell backwards onto the floor with a loud thump as the box flew from Sora's feet and hit the opposite wall.

"Ow," Sora complained to Riku's shoulder bone which had connected with his forehead. "That was really stupid, even for me. I'm sorry, Riku. I can be a bit clumsy at times." He lifted his head to smile at the other boy. And froze as his brain finally woke up enough to realize just where he was. He was lying on Riku's chest, the other boy's arms around his waist, and his face, now that he had raised it, mere centimeters from the beautiful visage of his new crush. Riku's green eyes were staring right at him, wide and looking almost frightened. The blond boy's breathing was quick and shallow, and Sora could have sworn that the hands on his back were shaking slightly.

"Sora …" Riku whispered.

Sora knew he should have leapt from the other boy's arms and apologized for the next several minutes, but Riku's mesmerizing eyes held him fast. Their faces were so very close together, their noses almost touching. Their exhalations mingled together as they breathed, and Sora could feel the warmth of the air as he brought it into his own lungs, the excess carbon dioxide that Riku had expelled making the air thinner, his lungs tighter. His eyes, wide and staring like the other boy's, were growing heavy, wanting badly to close, and his neck was starting to hurt from keeping his head elevated like this. How easy it would be to lower his head just a little bit and taste those soft-looking lips with his own.

As this heat-inducing thought crossed Sora's otherwise foggy mind, Riku lifted his chin just slightly and twisted his head a bit to one side, providing even better access to his tempting mouth. His eyelids were also beginning to droop, giving those spell-binding eyes a half-lidded look that sent shivers coursing up and down Sora's body, and one of his hands was slowly moving up Sora's back and to the back of his head. Not needing any further invitation, Sora began to lower his head, letting his nose slip past the other boy's as their lips crept closer and closer together. He could feel Riku's heart pounding against his chest, and he knew his own heart was beating out a similar rhythm. If his mind hadn't been filled with a delicious hot mist, he might have marveled at the fact that this gorgeous boy actually seemed to want to kiss him back, but at the moment, he was too caught up in the moment to think of anything but those lips and how the space that separated him from them was steadily shrinking …

"Hey, Sora! You okay in there?"

In an instant, Sora had scrambled off of Riku in a flailing mess of arms of legs and propelled himself half-way across the room. Riku's reaction was similar, and by the time Roxas opened the door, the two boys were at least five feet apart.

"You okay?" Roxas repeated, peering in at the red-faced males with a look of suspicion. "I heard a crash."

"Y-yeah," Sora stammered, rubbing his head and trying to keep the guilty expression off of his face. "I just fell. You know what a klutz I am."

His twin looked between him and Riku, who kept his face turned away, with narrowed eyes. "Yeah, I know," he replied. He leveled a pointed stare on Sora and said, "Try to be more careful, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Sora returned, waving his hand casually. "I'll be fine. You worry too much."

Roxas peered at him some more and made to reply, but Yuffie's voice floated up the stairs and cut him off.

"Hey, Riku! Leon said he wants to go soon, so if you want a ride, get down here!"

The addressed boy flinched a little but rose to his feet. Sora watched him with concern. Riku seemed extremely embarrassed by what had just happened and even a bit ashamed of himself. He had refused to look at either Sora or Roxas and had tipped his head forward so that his long hair hid a large portion of his face. Seeing the other boy's reaction banished all of Sora's lingering embarrassment and replaced it with the desire to banish Riku's as well. After all, now that his brain was working again, Sora realized what had happened was cause for joy and excitement, not shame.

"Riku," he said, jumping to his feet and crossing to the blond before he could exit the room, "before you go, can I get your phone number?"

Riku's head snapped up, and his green eyes stared at Sora in shock. "You … you want my number?" he asked in a small, quiet voice.

Sora grinned at him. "Well, yeah. You said you'd show me and Roxas around, and while you meant at the school, I figured it wouldn't be too much of a problem if I asked you to do the same for us around the town. I mean, we've been so busy moving that we haven't had time to shop for Christmas presents yet. We'll need to know the best places for gifts and where to eat and where to catch a movie and all that fun stuff."

The stunned expression on Riku's face slowly melted into a smile. "Yeah, sure," he said. "I'd love to." Both boys pulled out their phones and took a moment to exchange numbers. Once they had finished, Riku commented, "My schedule is pretty busy, so I'll call you and let you know when I'm free."

"Great!" Sora replied. "I'll talk to you then."

Riku nodded and left the room, passing by Roxas who was reclining against the doorframe with a little knowing smile on his face. Once the older blond had left, the younger lifted one eyebrow at his twin and gave him a classic "I told you so" look.

Sora just laughed at him. Even Roxas's attitude couldn't lessen the elation he felt at that moment. His crush clearly liked him back, and that meant that for the first time, there might actually be a boyfriend in his future. A super gorgeous, sweet, loving boyfriend. Nothing could ruin this wonderful, perfect moment.

He turned around and promptly tripped over the discarded empty box.

_Well_ , he thought as Roxas laughed, _almost nothing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After all this time, I still cringe at the "falling on each other" cliche, but I stand by my decision to use it since it was in the original story. And I adore klutz!Sora.


	16. Leon

_"Hey."_

_He looks up from the notes to his latest paper into the eyes of his boyfriend, seated across from him at the table. A smile dances in those blue depths as a small box appears on the table in front of him._

_"Happy Valentine's Day, Squall."_

_"You have_ **_got_ ** _to be kidding me," he groans, not bothering to hide his disgust as he looks at the box. "Just yesterday I was saying how idiotic I think this holiday is. You_ **_agreed_ ** _with me."_

_"I know," his blond companion replies, "but I wanted an excuse to give you a present." His hand pushes the box a little closer. "Open it."_

_He grumbles to himself but picks up the box. When he sees the logo on the lid, he lifts one eyebrow in suspicion. "This is from a jewelry store," he states. "You bought me jewelry?"_

_The smile does not falter for even a second. "Just open it."_

_Sighing, he complies. Inside the store box is a typical hinged jewelry box, the kind made of dark plastic with fake velvet lining the interior. It is too large to contain earrings, too thin to be a watch, and too square to hold a chain necklace. His cynical mind has decided on a pin and is already trying to think of ways to politely refuse it when his fingers snap open the box and his body freezes as his eyes first rest upon the object inside._

_There on the soft dark material of the box's lining sits the head of a silver lion, caught in mid-roar with eyes blazing and mane tossing in a frozen wind. Below it, forming from the lion's neck, is an inverted cross that extends even further into a sharp point at the bottom. The piece gives off an aura of power and strength as well as a hint of irreverence and rebellion, and he finds that he cannot tear his eyes away. As much as he would hate to admit it, he likes it. He likes it very much._

_"As soon as I saw it, I thought of you." His boyfriend has risen from his chair and crept up behind him without him noticing, and now his voice speaks quietly in his ear. "A fitting ornament for my lionhearted Squall." He leans over a bit and plucks the lion from its rest, revealing the chain that had lain beneath it. It is not a pin, but a necklace. Even better._

_A warm hand has taken his and pulls gently. "Come on," the other man says, coaxing him to stand. He follows his boyfriend into the bathroom where the blond positions him before the mirror and slips behind him to help do up the clasp. The pendant thumps against his breastbone as fingers fiddle with the chain, but the new weight around his neck is not unwelcome. In fact, for some strange reason, it feels as if it belongs there, as if before he had been missing a part of himself._

_"There," the voice whispers in his ear as he stares at himself and his new present. His boyfriend's arms are around his waist, his chin on his shoulder, and the smile that shines at him from the mirror is dazzling. "So? What do you think?"_

_He doesn't answer with words. Words could never do justice to what he feels in his heart right now. Instead, he turns to his love, gathers him in his arms, and kisses him until they both can barely stand. And when leaning against the bathroom wall becomes annoying, he moves them to the living room couch and continues to show his appreciation until well into the afternoon._

xXx

It took a bit of searching, but Leon finally found it on the upper shelf in his closet, shoved to the back behind his old baseball glove and a pair of dress shoes that he had worn once and then never looked at again. The black plastic of the box had been scratched in several places due to rough handling, but otherwise it had held up well. He sat down on his bed and just cradled it in his hands for several minutes. He realized, as previously banished memories seeped into his mind, that he had only opened this box twice: once to remove the object inside for the first time and once to replace it before putting it away "for good".

Hesitantly, almost shyly, Leon gripped the lid with his fingers and pulled it open for the third time. A shaky breath passed through his lips as his eyes fell on the familiar object inside. It lay there serenely, as if it had always known he would come back to it.

"Hello, Griever," Leon whispered, not feeling even the slightest bit embarrassed that he was talking to a necklace. "It's been a long time."

A stray sunbeam from the window caught Griever's silver mane and made it shine.

"Cloud is back," Leon told the beast within his hands, "but he's not the same Cloud I remember. I realized that today when I spent some time with him, talking. He's become more mature, more grounded. He has a family now, so I suppose that's to be expected, and really, if I think about it, I've changed as well and in the same ways. Still, it was a little strange to be talking to him as he is now and have the memory of how he used to be superimposed on top of him."

Sighing, Leon let his thumb travel up and down the length of the cross below Griever's head. The metal felt cool to the touch, its bumps and grooves comforting in their familiarity. Quietly, he confessed, "I know that Squall loved Cloud all those years ago, and the part of me that is still connected to that younger version of myself still loves who he used to be. But I wonder if I can ignore those old feelings enough to appreciate the man he is now. I wonder if Leon, the cranky bookstore owner and self-proclaimed eternal bachelor, can love Cloud, widower and father of two boys. What do you think, Griever?"

The necklace in his hands glittered in the sunlight but kept its thoughts on the matter to itself.

Leon chuckled gently. "That's what I thought you'd say," he joked. "Here's a different question then. You belonged to Squall. You were an extension of his soul and a symbol of his undying love for Cloud. Now that Squall is confined to the past, will you agree to a new owner? Will you be mine instead?"

Not waiting for an answer that would not come, he slipped his fingers underneath Griever's chain and removed it from the box. Swiftly, he rose from the bed, crossed to the mirror that hung against the wall, and draped the chain around his neck, closing the clasp quickly with fingers that remembered that task well. Griever bumped once against his chest and lay still.

Leon lowered his arms, lifted his head, and gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He was visibly older - his hair longer, the shading of his eyes darker and more knowledgeable - but Griever sat proudly on his chest as if it had never left. Just like the first time he had put it on, Leon felt that indescribable connection to the pendant around his neck, a sense of strength, confidence, and pride that welled up within him and seemed to originate from the center of his chest where the comfortable weight lay. Change is a part of life, it seemed to tell him, but the fundamentals of the heart stay the same. Squall may be gone, but the one who replaced him still has the heart of a lion.

Smiling, Leon rested his hand over his old friend and closed his eyes.

xXx

The next day, Griever lay tucked inside his shirt as he worked, safe against his chest and away from prying eyes.

Lexaeus and Zexion had come again, the big man to pick up an order for Professor Xaldin, the smaller presumably simply to get away for a while. They were at the counter, finalizing payment, when the door to the shop opened in a jangle of bells.

"I present," a joyful voice boomed, "Paige Catherine Dincht!"

"Zell, dear," a second voice chastised gently, "you really don't need to announce her like that."

Leon looked up to find, not only Zell and Emily in the entranceway, but also Selphie and her daughter Angela. Emily held a small mass of blankets in her arms which Leon presumed was their newborn bundled up against the cold.

Selphie waved at him jubilantly and cried, "Hiya! We all came to visit!"

"I can see that," Leon answered just as Yuffie came flying out from the shelves, squealing.

"I wanna hold the baby!" she announced, holding out her arms to Emily expectantly. The older woman smiled tiredly and placed the small bundle in her arms. Leon half-expected his employee to go bouncing about the store with the baby in tow, but to his surprise, she instantly calmed and began rocking back and forth on her feet, cooing gently to the little girl in her embrace.

"Isn't she gorgeous?" Zell asked proudly. "She looks just like her mother."

"Zell, dear," Emily replied, leaning against him, "she's just a baby. She doesn't look like anyone yet."

Yuffie didn't comment, too busy making silly noises at the baby to pay attention to the argument. Selphie had joined her, dissolving into baby-talk herself. Emily smiled at the both of them and closed her eyes as she rested against her husband.

Leon had often wondered how the two women, now both mothers, had become such good friends. They were just so very different. Emily was a life-long lover of books and had been a customer long before she had married his good friend. Leon had actually witnessed the moment she fell in love with Zell although he would never embarrass her by revealing that he had been watching when she saw him for the first time and had just stared for minutes on end. She had been far too shy to approach him, however, choosing instead to haunt the bookstore and linger in the shelves nearby whenever he was present. When Zell had finally noticed her, Leon had expected the shadowing to stop, but he had learned to his surprise that his friend was _also_ shy. They might have danced around each other forever if Leon hadn't introduced them and forced them into a lunch date together.

Selphie, on the other hand, didn't know the meaning of the word "shy", and she barely understood the word "self-restraint". She frequently gave Leon a headache, not because she was loud, but because she talked constantly. Leon had heard about second-born children not learning to speak as quickly because the first-born did all the talking for them; Angela was perhaps the only first-born on record who had a similar problem. As for the story of Selphie and Irvine, she had decided almost immediately upon meeting him that she wanted him, but she disapproved of his flirtatious ways. To combat it, she had played hard-to-get like a pro, flirting and teasing and always running away until Irvine didn't bother with anyone else because she was too much fun to ignore. By the time he realized what she was doing, it was too late; he was already madly in love with her. Leon had watched the whole scenario play out with amusement and hadn't been the slightest bit shocked when he was asked to play the role of best man for their wedding.

A quiet cough from Lexaeus interrupted Leon's thoughts and reminded him that he had not finished his sale. He returned to it with a short apology. The teaching assistant nodded his forgiveness and then, referring to the group crowded around Paige, commented, "What is it about women that make them incapable of proper speech around infants?"

"I have no idea," Leon replied with a mild smirk, slipping the receipt and the professor's magazines into a bag.

Footsteps in the back room alerted him to Demyx's presence slightly before the blond entered the store, a plate of freshly-baked cookies in his hands. "Here you go, boss," he said, tipping the new cookies into the almost empty basket that held the treats for sale. Then, as he looked up and saw the men at the counter, he smiled and greeted, "Hello, Zexion. It's nice to see you again."

The young man's visible eye widened slightly in surprise. "You remembered my name?" he asked.

"Sure," Demyx replied with a wide grin. "You helped me out after all. I -" He stopped short, eyes lighting up at the sight of the group closer to the door. "Paige is here?" he cried excitedly. The next second, he had dashed around the counter and over to Yuffie, alternately making faces at the baby and pleading with the brunette to let him hold the little girl.

Leon sighed at him. "Women and Demyx," he commented to Lexaeus with a shake of his head. "Although," he amended, "considering he bakes and his set-list is straight from Lilith Fair, he's practically a woman already." He handed the bag to a chuckling Lexaeus and wished both graduate students a good afternoon. They returned his sentiment politely and left together.

Once his two customers had left, Leon let his eyes wander over to his friends who were chatting with each other and fawning over the baby. He wasn't particularly surprised to find a set of green eyes staring at him intently from behind a wall of blue corduroy. Angela was not fond of strangers and had barely moved from her mother's legs. Now that Lexaeus and Zexion were gone, however, Leon surmised that the little girl would be more daring. He walked out from behind the counter and, smiling gently, lifted his arms in invitation. A moment later, a small blur of puffy pink coat flew from Selphie's side and attached itself to his legs.

"Hi, Leelee," she said once he had bent down and picked her up. In spite of all the times he had babysat her, the two-year-old had not yet been able to master his name. He had finally given up trying to teach her and accepted his nickname. For now.

"Hi, Angie," he replied. He balanced her in the crook of one arm so that he could run his fingers through her brown curls. "How have you been?"

"'kay," she replied, nuzzling her head against his neck.

"What you do think of the baby?"

Angela lifted her head to wrinkle her nose at him. "Yuck," she proclaimed, managing to adequately convey with her limited vocabulary just how much she disapproved of Paige.

Leon chuckled at her. "I imagine you don't like her," he agreed. "After all, she takes all that attention that should be yours." Using his free hand, he reached below the counter and swiped one of Demyx's cookies. "Here," he said. "Your mom doesn't like you having sweets between meals, so we won't tell her, okay? Shh."

"Shh," Angela agreed, her eyes brightening at the sight of the cookie. Her pudgy fingers seized it, and almost immediately the entire treat had disappeared into her mouth.

"You're so good with her, Leon." Emily had broken away from the main group and approached the two at the counter. She leaned against the glass and smiled at them.

"I've had practice," he replied to her comment. Angela had managed to get cookie crumbs all over her face and a few in her hair, so he carefully swept them all away. "How are you, Emily?" he asked when he had finished. "You look tired."

She laughed a little and replied, "I am tired. Completely sleep-deprived, stressed, worn-out, you name it. Zell tries to let me sleep as much as possible, but I'm still exhausted."

He gave her a sympathetic look while simultaneously stopping Angela from pulling on his hair. "Guess having a baby isn't for the weak-hearted," he commented.

"No," she agreed. "It's not." She watched the other two interact for a moment and then asked, "Leon, I know that Paige isn't nearly old enough to be left alone, but once she is, would you … ? I mean, if it's not too much trouble … ?"

"Yes," he answered the question that she was too timid to ask. "I'd be happy to babysit for you, Em. Just let me know when you need a break."

The worry in Emily's face immediately melted away. "Oh, thank you, Leon," she breathed. "You're so very kind to us."

"Not a problem."

Angela, however, did not appear to like this line of conversation, and she was not one to let her disapproval go unannounced. "No!" she suddenly shouted, surprising both adults. "Leelee mine!" She wrapped her little arms around Leon's neck and held on for dear life. "Mine!" she screeched. "No baby! Leelee mine!"

"Um, Angie …" Leon began, trying to stop her from crushing his windpipe.

" _No!_ " she screamed, strengthening her grip. "Mine! Mine, mine, mine!"

A half-second later, Selphie was there, drawn to the situation by the cry of her child. "Come on, Angie," she coaxed as she took hold of the girl's arms. "Let go of Leelee before you choke him."

"No!" Angela insisted, starting in on a proper tantrum. "No, no, no, no, no, _nooo!_ " She let out a monster scream as Selphie successfully pried off her arms, instantly deafening Leon who had the misfortune of being right next to her. At the same time, Paige began to cry, adding her own voice to the ruckus.

"Sorry!" Selphie apologized to the store in general. "She's got the Terrible Twos, you know?" Leon watched, one hand clapped over his injured ear, as she attempted to drag her screaming, kicking offspring out of the store. Angela was certainly doing her best to make the task nearly impossible, wriggling and flailing in her mother's arms like a worm on a hook.

Before Selphie could get too far, Zell decided to step in and try to calm the girl down. "Hey, Angela," he said, crouching a bit to be at her level, "I've got a great idea. Wanna hear it?"

"No!" Angela replied automatically, but Zell ignored her answer and the furious pout on her face.

"There's some paper and crayons in the back," he told her. "We could make some pictures. How about we draw one for Leelee and one for your Daddy for when he gets home from work?"

Angela sniffled and hiccupped at him. "Pit-chur?" she asked.

"Yeah. You wanna draw some?"

Her little brow wrinkled as she considered this very important question. After several silent and, for the adults, tense minutes, her face cleared and she nodded. "'kay."

"Okay!" He took her hand and led her around the counter and into the back.

"Whew!" Selphie joked, wiping away fake sweat from her brow. "Crisis averted." She grinned at Emily and commented, "I don't know why Zell is so nervous about being a father. He's great with Angela."

Emily sighed as she accepted Paige back from Yuffie. The baby had stopped crying but was still fussing a bit. "I know," she replied to Selphie, "but you know Zell. Once he gets something into his head, no amount of proof otherwise will get it out."

"Ha! That's the truth." Grinning, Selphie turned to Leon and inspected his neck with sharp eyes. "You okay there, Leelee?" she asked. "Angie didn't squash you, did she?"

"Don't call me that, Selph," he grumbled, massaging his throat a bit. He had never realized before how strong a toddler could be.

"Aw, but it's so cute!" she protested. His answering glare just made her laugh. Gently, she removed his fingers and inspected the damage. "You look okay," she told him, "although your shirt's all mussed up. Here, let me fix it … wha?" Her fingers, which had begun to straighten his collar, pulled away again as her eyes noticed something new. "What's that?" she asked, leaning forward a bit. "Are you wearing a necklace, Squally?"

Leon felt an irrational rush of panic spread through him. "Don't call me that either!" he snapped, quickly trying to draw her attention elsewhere while his hands pulled up his collar to hide the chain. Unfortunately, the damage had been done. Yuffie's eyes were on him.

"Are you really?" she cried, and a second later, she had launched herself across the counter to grab his shirt and pull the neckline down. "You are!" she crowed upon her discovery. "Is it the one Cloud was talking about yesterday? Is it?"

"Yuffie! Get off me!" he growled as he pushed her away. Only a strong grip on his self-restraint was keeping him from punching her outright. He did not want to reveal Griever to the others yet. The lion pendant dug into his breastbone as he fought the brunette, as if agreeing with him.

"Okay, okay," Yuffie said, letting go and stepping back. "Don't maul me. But seriously, Leon, is it the one Cloud mentioned? Did he give it to you when you two were together?"

Leon's lips were curled into a defensive snarl, and his knees were bent, ready to begin the retreat. But in this case, a retreat would only delay the battle, not avoid it. He could see that in all three sets of female eyes that gazed at him, and even Demyx looked curious although the blond had backed off several steps to avoid any explosions that might occur. Deciding to face his doom now rather than later, Leon inhaled slowly, straightened out of his hostile half-crouch, and answered, "Yes. To both."

Yuffie sighed happily, Selphie grinned, and even Emily smiled a little. "That's so cute!" the youngest of his torturers declared. "Can we see it?"

"No."

His tone had brooked no argument, but Yuffie was never one to be deterred.

"Please?"

" _No_."

"Aw, but Leeeeoon …"

Surprisingly, Selphie was the one to step in and defuse the situation before Leon could leap across the counter and strangle Yuffie with his bare hands. "Let it go, Yuffs," she advised. "Guys aren't like us. They like to keep their lovers' secrets rather than share them with their friends. Oh, and speaking of lovers," she transitioned with a happy clap of her hands, "when is Vincent coming back?"

"Thursday," Yuffie answered with a confused tip of her head. "Why?"

"Is he sticking around or going straight back out?"

"He's staying. He's staying all the way through Christmas and New Year's. I told him I'd kick his ass if he left me alone for either of them."

"Oh good!" The older brunette bounced on her toes like a child. "That's perfect," she announced, "because I want to have a party for Paige."

"Another one?" Emily asked. "We just had a party for her."

"That was a baby shower," Selphie replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "This will be a 'Welcome to the Neighborhood' party. Aaa-aaand …" She turned her grin full-force onto Leon. "We can welcome the Strifes at the same time! Good idea, right?"

"That a great idea!" Yuffie agreed before Leon could respond.

"Um, excuse me?" Demyx had approached them again now that it seemed that no homicides were to occur. "Can I ask a question?"

"Sure, Demyx," Selphie smiled at him. "What?"

"Well," he said, his words slow and hesitant, "I was just wondering, what with your and Irvine's connections to Leon and past relations and things … I mean … well … Why would you want to welcome them? Isn't Cloud, like, the enemy?"

Leon expected Selphie to laugh at him, call him silly, and babble on about how everyone is a friend to her. Instead, his high-school friend stopped bouncing and smiled at Demyx with a hint of sadness. "Well, yeah," she answered, "I suppose he is. But it's been obvious to Irvy and Zell and me for a few years now that Squall will never love anyone other than Cloud, so if he's back, I think we as Squall's friends should encourage him to spend time with Cloud, patch things up. With supervision, of course. Because if it looks like Cloud is going to hurt Squall again, this time, we can all jump on him and beat him up."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Leon growled, although hearing Selphie speak about him with such care and concern warmed his heart a little. "And my name is Leon."

Now, she laughed. "No, it's not," she scolded. "Not while your last name is Leonhart. Leon Leonhart sounds _so_ dumb. If you want me to call you Leon, change your last name."

"To what?"

"I don't know. Loire maybe?"

"I am _not_ taking my father's name."

"Why not?" the brunette teased. "He doesn't have it anymore. He took your mom's name like the little lovesick puppy he is." She giggled. "Your parents are so cute!" Leon just groaned and rolled his eyes.

"So when is the party?" Emily cut in, steering the conversation away from the danger that was Leon's father.

"I thought this Saturday would be good," Selphie answered, turning back to her. "And I want as many of our friends as possible to come. Yuffie, that means you and Vincent. And you, too, Demyx, and your friends."

The blond visibly brightened. "Me? And Axel and Luxord?"

"Yup, yup!" Selphie grinned. A moment later, though, her smile faltered. "But not those guys Axel works with, okay?" she clarified. "They scare me."

Demyx laughed. "You mean Larx and Marly? Yeah, they scare me, too. Don't worry, I'll keep them away."

Yuffie was bouncing now as well, positively bubbling over with excitement. "Can I invite the Gasts?" she asked. "Yazoo and Loz are home from college, and Kadaj and Riku are going to be in school with Sora and Roxas. They'll be perfect additions to the party. So, can I?"

Whatever Selphie's response would have been, it was drowned out by Leon's quick, sharp, "No. Absolutely not."

Both brunettes turned to look at him, and Yuffie pouted. "Why not?" she asked.

"Because I said so."

"How about just Riku?"

"No." Sternly, Leon leveled a hard gaze on her and stated, "If there is even the slightest possibility that any of my cousins will show up, I won't go." As well behaved as Riku had been yesterday, Leon knew that there was no way his older cousins would allow the youngest to attend a party without crashing it themselves, and he was not going to walk into a situation that involved both Cloud and the Gast family.

"Well," Selphie sighed, "there's no point to inviting Cloud if Leelee doesn't go, so I guess that's a no, Yuffie."

"Awww …"

"Don't call me Leelee."

"But you let Angie call you Leelee."

"That's different. She's two." He sighed and rubbed his throat a bit at the memory of those little arms wrapped tightly around it. "Do me a favor, Selph, and pay that girl some attention. She's getting really jealous of Paige."

"I know," Selphie smiled at him. "I will, don't worry. Once we leave here, she and I are going to spend the whole afternoon together."

"Good. I -" He stopped as something began tugging insistently on his pants. Looking down, his gray eyes met a pair of bright green that gazed up at him excitedly. Once their owner realized she had gotten his attention, she lifted up a piece of paper and waved it at him.

"Leelee!" Angela cried. "Pitchur! Pitchur, Leelee!"

Carefully, Leon took hold of the frantically moving paper and lifted it from her grasp. After turning it so that he could see her drawing - a scribbled mess of primary colors - he smiled down at her and said, "Thank you, Angie. It's wonderful."

She beamed up at him and then ran to Zell who had just emerged from the back carrying another piece of paper. After taking the sheet from him, Angela sprinted to her mother and waved this paper at her. "Mommy! Daddy pitchur!"

"Oh, honey!" Selphie cooed, lifting the girl into her arms. "It's beautiful! Daddy will love it." Happy for the attention, Angela giggled and nuzzled into her mother's shoulder.

"Zell, dear," Emily called to her husband, "Paige will need to be fed soon. We should go."

"Sure thing," he replied. As he passed by Leon on his way around the counter, he slapped the other man on the shoulder and said, "Take care, man. I'll see you around."

Leon gave Zell an affirmative grunt, then said goodbye to the two women carrying their daughters. Yuffie and Demyx also said their goodbyes, and less than a minute later, the bells above the door signaled the exit of his high-school friends and their families.

"Oh, Leon," Yuffie said sweetly as Demyx wandered away back upstairs. "Are you sure I can't coax you into showing me that necklace?"

"Yuffie," he returned, looking her straight in the eye, "get back to work or you lose your Christmas bonus."

She gave a little squeak and promptly disappeared into the shelves. He watched her go with a smirk. As much as the women in his life liked to tease him and poke their noses into his business, it was nice to know that he could still send the worst of them scampering. It reaffirmed his dominance, his power within his own domain. This store was his, and his employees would behave, dammit.

As if to agree with him, the pendant against his chest shifted slightly. Leon smiled at the little surge of strength that rushed through him at the feeling. He had forgotten that Griever had that effect on him at times, as if the silver lion had a heart of its own. Now that Griever hung about his neck again, he found himself wondering how he had ever convinced himself to take it off. Griever was more than a simple necklace, more than a connection to Cloud; it was his partner, the embodiment of his own heart. No wonder he had never even considered trying to love again. Without Griever, he had no heart to love with. Without it, he was alone.

Leon smiled and turned away from the counter towards the back where a shipment of new novels lay waiting for him. This Saturday, he thought, he would no longer be alone, and together with his partner, he would take those first important steps towards obtaining the man and the future he wanted.

His lion heart would settle for no less.


	17. Axel

_The sun is shining in his eyes as he lays on his back in the grass. Demyx's blond head rests on his stomach, rising slightly in a slow rhythm as he breathes. Another blond head lays near his feet: Luxord stretched out beside him, plucking bits of grass and systematically shredding them. Demyx's legs drape across Luxord's back to meet in a crossing of ankles on the other side. Together, they make a large and rather squashed letter 'H' in the grass._

_The three of them often get together like this, just hanging and wasting time. After all, they are thirteen. Too old to play with cars and actions figures, but too young to drive and too broke to go anywhere if they could. Their mothers often suggest things that they could do (chores, mostly) and their fathers tell them to listen to their mothers, but they don't. They are rebellious teenagers now, and they have the acne, lanky limbs, and embarrassing voice cracks to prove it._

_And they have dreams. They have lots of dreams._

_"So the duck says to the nun, 'What do you think we have webbed feet for anyway?'"_

_Luxord sniggers at the punchline, making him grin widely. As for his other friend, the joke has predictably gone over Demyx's head._

_"I don't get it," the blond complains._

_He reaches down and pats the messy hair gently, condescendingly. "It's okay, Dem. Don't hurt yourself thinking about it." Demyx briefly lifts his head up and then slams it back into his stomach as punishment for this treatment. "Ouch! Dammit, Dem, that hurt!"_

_Luxord sniggers some more before commenting, "You know, Axel, while we appreciate your willingness to entertain us, you're going to have to do more than tell jokes if you want to do stand-up. You need an actual routine."_

_"I know, I know," he replies with a mild groan, slipping an arm across his eyes to ward off the sun. "I need more than that really if I'm going to be successful. I need a hook, a gimmick."_

_Quietly, Demyx begins to sing under his breath, "You've gotta have a gimmick if you wanna have a chance …"_

_"If you're going to sing that song, you'd better get up and strip."_

_"Excuse me," Luxord cuts in at his joking suggestion, "but that is not something I wish to see. Demyx stay where you are."_

_The musical blond shrugs, but he sees a perfect opportunity and jumps on it. "Don't tell me you're against stripping? Thought you were going to own a fancy club in Vegas. You're not going to get much business if you're not interested in seeing skin."_

_"I have nothing against seeing skin," the other replies with a perfect little aristocratic sniff of mock-disdain. "Just Demyx's."_

_"Oh, so if I decided to get up and strip while Dem sang, that would be okay with you."_

_"That is not what I … oh never mind. I refuse to encourage you further." Luxord turns back to his grass-shredding with renewed purpose as the other two laugh._

_A minute of silence passes or possibly two - time is hard to measure on afternoons such as these - and then Demyx stirs slightly on top of him and asks, "Hey, guys, do you think we'll always be like this?"_

_"What?" he asks back. "Bored, broke, and covered in zits? God, I hope not."_

_"No," his friend laughs, but a moment later, his tone is serious once more. "I mean like this. Friends. Together." When the other two simply stare at him in response, he continues, "Because we're all going to be successful one day, right? Axel will be famous, headlining in California and New York, I'll be touring all over the world, and Luxord will be pulling in millions and living the high life out west. That's what we want, right? But when we get it, do you think we'll still be friends? Do you think we'll remember each other and our times together like this or do you think the price for fame is the contentment you once got back when you were still a nobody like everyone else?" He pauses, and his blue-green eyes slide back and forth between the two pairs on either side of him. Quietly, he repeats, "Do you think we'll always be like this?"_

_His hand has somehow made its way into Demyx's blond locks, and his fingers lay flush against the other boy's skull in a gesture of comfort as he sighs, "I don't know, Dem." His fingers tighten a little around the soft hair in his hands, and for a moment he just holds his friend there against his stomach, a familiar weight that he is suddenly afraid to lose. "I don't know."_

_"Oh," Demyx replies. "Okay."_

_There is silence for a while, but it does not last long for, in spite of the questions that still linger over their heads, they are only thirteen. Too young to be men, too young to fully understand the weight of what has been said much less begin to contemplate its meaning._

_"But what I do know is that you just said something mature, and that's not allowed."_

_"Definitely," Luxord agrees. He throws a slice of grass at Demyx's nose and orders, "Say something stupid and childish. Now."_

_"Um … penis?"_

_"That works. Good boy."_

_"Yeah, and don't do it again or we'll have to disown you and find someone else to make letters in the lawn with us." He tips his head to the side and considers Luxord's shoes for a moment. "That might not be such a bad idea anyway," he comments after a pause. "If we got one more person to hang with us, we could get him to lie down next to Lux and then we would be 'HI' on grass." He swiftly falls into giggles at his own joke while Luxord just groans._

_Demyx looks from one to the other, shrugs, and announces, "I don't get it." A second later, he screams as both of his friends descend on him and tickle like mad._

xXx

If someone asked Axel what he did for a living, he would launch immediately into a long description of his stand-up routine. He loved to talk about all of his magic tricks, without giving any of them away of course, and if his listener made the mistake of acting interested, he could go on for hours about just how many things you could make go boom and crackle with only a kids' chemistry set and the contents of a normal kitchen. He didn't often recite from his routine, preferring to encourage people to come see him instead, but he would sometimes crack a joke or two and even do an impromptu magic act if pressed.

If someone asked Axel what he did to make money, he would answer that he was an administrative assistant and leave it at that.

It was a nice job as jobs went. The phone didn't ring very often, and he never had to make coffee. The boss was cool - Larxene's father, the poor man - and the rest of the people who came in and out were equally easy to get along with. And being a secretary for a theater was kind of fun. He got to deal with scripts and posters and programs in addition to the more normal kinds of paperwork. But he was still a secretary, and that was a blow to his masculine pride no matter how he looked at it.

Whenever his masculine pride felt too beaten down, he would go home and blow something up.

"Hey, Firebird."

Axel looked up at the voice and the slight knock against the doorframe and found one of Tantalus Theater's regular actors standing in the opening with a half-smile. The thin man's red-brown hair was standing straight up and he still had a bit of stage make-up on his face.

"Hey, Blank," Axel grinned, putting aside his work for the moment. "Let me guess: fitting with Lowell?"

The actor rolled his eyes in confirmation. Irritated, he complained, "The moron wants me to wear this huge hat with a feather in it. Says it's dashing." He snorted. "I'm the fricking captain of the guard, not a Musketeer. I'm not supposed to be dashing."

Axel laughed and leaned back in his chair, ready to hear more. The cast's regular fights with their resident head of costume and make-up was one of the best things about this job. Lowell had been an actor himself once and a fairly successful one at that, which meant he now felt that his opinion carried more weight than anyone else's. Unfortunately, the man was a complete poof and liked to dress everyone up in lots of feathers, beads, and lace. And purple. Lots of purple.

"And it's too big," Blank was continuing his grievances. "It flops in front of my eyes and I can't see. How am I supposed to do any decent swordplay with Zidane if I can't see him?" He paused, a smirk quickly spreading across his lips as he confided, "You should see what he wants Zidane to wear."

"Oh God," Axel laughed. "I can just imagine." He waved one hand lightly in reassurance. "Don't worry. The boss'll straighten him out."

"Yeah, I know." Blank shrugged lightly and raised one hand to run it through his hair. When he realized he couldn't make the strands budge due to all the gel, he grimaced and crossed his arms instead. "Anyway, I'm here for my paycheck."

Axel nodded. "Sure." Straightening up in his chair, he scooted over to the pile of envelopes that sat on one corner of his desk and began to sort through them, looking for the one that bore Blank's name.

While he searched, his fellow red-head moved a few steps into the room and examined the pile of metal and wires that Axel had abandoned on his desk. "What's that?" he asked.

"Stuff I'm working on for my act," Axel answered, pausing in his search to grin at the other man. "I'm going to rig up a stuffed dog so it'll move across a table. Tell it to stay and have it follow me, that kind of thing. Pretend to get progressively upset at it and end up setting it on fire."

Blank gave him a look that was somewhere between disbelief and disappointment. "You're going to set a stuffed dog on fire onstage?" he asked in a tone that was a statement rather than a question.

Axel didn't care. "Yeah," he replied, grinning even more. "And then I'll explain how the neighbors called the SPCA, but when it comes time to show the dog to the cops, I'll pull it out of the firebox and it'll be a pet rock instead. Cool, huh?"

Blank sighed and scratched the back of his head, slightly shifting the headband that he always seemed to wear. "Yeah, Firebird, that's cool. Now how about my money?"

"Right." A couple more seconds, and Axel pulled out a single envelope and handed it over. "Here you go." As Blank took it, he commented, "I keep trying to get old man Baku to sign up for direct deposit, but he won't listen."

"Yeah well, he can be stubborn and set in his ways about things like that." Blank ripped open the envelope with a finger and took a quick glance at the number before folding the whole thing in half and sticking it in his back jeans pocket.

Watching him from his desk, Axel teased, "You planning on using any of that to take Ruby out to a nice dinner?"

The flush that immediately spread over the actor's face was quite satisfying. "Why would I want to take her out?" Blank demanded, far too heatedly to be believable. "She's nowhere good enough to spend my money on."

"Uh-huh," Axel replied. "Which is why you were staring at her from the wings the other night during rehearsal."

"I was waiting for my cue!"

"According to Marcus, you missed it."

Blank opened his mouth to respond, shut it when he realized he had nothing to say, and proceeded to turn an interesting shade of maroon. Giving Axel a parting glare, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the office. Axel waited politely for the front door of the theater to slam shut before collapsing on his desk in a fit of laughter. Teasing Blank about Ruby was another one of the best parts about this job. It was just too easy, and considering that the man would probably never summon up the guts to ask her out, it would be an available form of entertainment for a very long time.

The rest of Axel's afternoon shift passed uneventfully. A few more actors and stagehands wandered through in quest of their hard-fought earnings, but his conversations with them stayed short and polite. If Ruby had come through, he would have teased her as well, or if Marcus had come, the two of them would have stopped to gossip for a while - mostly about Ruby and Blank. But neither the spirited blonde nor the muscled leading man had shown up by the time the front door crashed open and a series of loud clicks approaching his office signaled to Axel that another form of entertainment had arrived. A mildly dangerous and rather volatile form of entertainment, but entertainment nonetheless.

His door had been mostly open already, but the blonde who appeared threw it back the rest of the way so violently that it bounced against the wall and rebounded nearly shut again. Axel didn't flinch; Larxene pretty much always entered his office like that. Carefully putting aside the motor that he had been fitting into the dog plushie, he folded his hands primly on his desk and waited. Larxene crossed to him, click-clacking all the way in her two-inch heels, planted her hands upon the surface, and hung her head so that she could look him directly in the eye.

Lowly, she growled, "I'm going to kill him."

Axel just grinned. "Meeting with Principal Kramer not go well?"

Larxene snarled. Axel had prided himself for many years now on being able to hear that sound and not immediately cower behind the nearest piece of furniture while protecting his testicles. It had taken him quite a bit of practice.

"Out," the irate blonde ordered, and Axel immediately jumped out of his seat and offered it to her. Larxene clicked around the desk and sank into his chair. While she made herself comfortable, lifting her legs onto his desk and crossing them at the ankles, he moved around to the other side and sat on the surface in the small spot of clear space between his paperwork and his current project.

He pretty much knew what had gotten his friend so upset. For a few years now, he, Larxene, and Marluxia had run the spring drama performance at Jefferson High. Larxene's connection to Tantalus had gotten them in; the kids' near-reverence of her kept them there in spite of the principal's desire to kick them out again. Cid Kramer was a quiet, timid man who didn't like conflict, and he had realized far too late that the woman he had hired to direct his spring plays loved blood and lots of it. Ever since she had waltzed in and announced that she wanted to stage _Mourning Becomes Electra_ , they had been fighting over what was and what was not appropriate for high school theater.

"So," Axel prodded, poking one foot with a tentative finger. "Tell me about it."

"Kramer is a spineless wimp," Larxene complained, one cheek resting on a balled-up fist. "I wanted to do _Medea_ this year. He said it was too gruesome." She scowled mightily. "What's wrong with gruesome? All the classics are violent. Shakespeare is just dripping with death, and he makes the kids read that in English class. What's wrong with _Medea_?" Her green eyes flicked to him and narrowed dangerously. "Do you know what he wants me to do instead?" When Axel shook his head at her, she reached into the pocket of her coat, extracted a small script, and tossed it at him.

Axel read the title on the cover and looked back at her, raising an eyebrow in disbelief and disgust. " _Our Town_?"

"Fucking _Our Town_!" she confirmed with an angry slap of her hand on his desk. "Can you fucking believe it? The bitch ends up dead at the end and has a sob-fest with a bunch of corpses, but because it's an American classic, it's okay for high school. And _Medea_ isn't. Why? Because it's fucking Greek?"

"Actually, it might be because of the whole 'murdering her kids' thing, but that's just a guess."

"I don't care! There is no way that I'm doing _Our Town_. No way in hell."

The blonde crossed her arms over her chest and proceeded to sulk viciously. Axel could very nearly see the murderous thoughts floating around in her head. In his hands, he ruffled the pages of the script back and forth as his mind worked on this important problem. After last year's production of _Dracula_ , which had culminated in the most realistic and bloody staking scene that the school had ever witnessed, Kramer had insisted on being part of the selection process for all future plays and had, almost convincingly, stated that if Larxene didn't like it, she would not be allowed to direct at the school anymore. So it was kind of important that they go along with this suggestion of his, at least for one year. The trouble was going to be reaching a compromise between the milquetoast principal and his passionate, near-sadistic friend.

"Hey," he breathed as an idea slowly began to form in his mind. "The girl dies in childbirth, right?"

"Yeah," Larxene responded dully.

"Childbirth is painful," he commented, glancing at her meaningfully. "And bloody."

She perked up slightly, but deflated again almost instantly. "So what?" she griped. "It happens offstage."

"Just 'cause it's not scripted doesn't mean we can't … allude to it," he grinned. Larxene caught on immediately, a familiar glint entering her eyes. "Plus," he continued, "this play is supposed to be 'timeless', right? So why can't it be the current time?" He flipped the book over to her again and leaned in to comment, "Bet a director could have lots of fun updating this little thing."

"Yeah," Larxene breathed, picking up the script with an almost-hunger in her expression. "I think George and Emily could do with a make-over. A little attitude. Maybe even …" She smirked at him. "… a shotgun wedding."

"Ooo, I like it," Axel replied. "And won't Kramer be _thrilled_ to hear that you've taken his suggestion. He'll probably brag about it to the faculty, maybe even the board."

Her grin was positively feral now. Sweetly, she cooed, "I've been so hard on him lately. I really should ease up a bit and let him have his way once in a while."

"Yeah, you should," he agreed. Placing a hand over his heart, he gave a little fake sigh and asked, "Doesn't it feel good to be nice to people for a change? I'm all warm and fuzzy inside."

Larxene snorted and did not comment. Instead, she rifled through the script a bit, stopping here and there to read something in more depth. Axel watched her with satisfaction. Another crisis averted by his quick thinking and wit. Of course it would mean a nightmare headache for Kramer, but Axel couldn't care less about him.

"What are you doing tonight, Ax?" Larxene asked him out of the blue. "Wanna hang out with me and Marly?"

He groaned a little as he answered, "Girl, I'd love to but I can't. I'm going to a party with Luxord and Demyx. It's some sort of welcome thing for Demyx's boss's friend's new kid and also the same boss's ex-boyfriend and his family."

She grimaced. "Sounds like loads of fun."

"I know. I'm not looking forward to it."

A perfectly shaped eyebrow lifted at him as he sulked on the edge of his desk. "Why are you going then?" she asked.

"Demyx gave me puppy eyes," he explained, and that was enough answer for anyone who knew the musician in question. No one in recorded history had managed to resist Demyx's puppy eyes. Many had tried; all had failed.

"Well, good luck with that," Larxene said, snapping the script shut and rising from his chair. "You're always welcome to drop by our place afterwards. We'll be up."

"Yeah," Axel teased, "but will you be decent?" He had enough first-hand experience to know that walking into Larxene's and Marluxia's shared apartment unannounced was like playing Russian Roulette except with five bullets in your six-shooter instead of one. And it was made worse by the fact that neither of them had the slightest shred of modesty so they didn't care who saw them and, more often than not, wouldn't bother to stop when interrupted.

In response to his taunt, Larxene grinned and leaned forwards with a seductive smile. "Neither of us would mind if you wanted to join in," she purred at him.

"Thanks, but no thanks," he replied, waving her off easily. "I'm not _that_ kinky."

"Pfft," she complained. "No fun at all." Straightening up, she clicked over to his door and pulled it open. She waved the script at him over her shoulder. "I'm going to go spend some quality time in Grover's Corners. See ya later, Firebird."

Axel had been about to comment that the sleepy little town would never be the same again, but at the usage of the nickname he stopped and grinned. The actors had dubbed him "Firebird" a few months after he began working at the theater, due to the fact that he could frequently be found practicing his act while in his office. He rather liked the name and wore it with pride. In spite of her connection to the theater, Larxene rarely used it. Yet when she did, he always felt an overwhelming urge to use hers, the one her father had given her years ago.

Most days, he didn't have the courage. Today, however, he was feeling particularly cocky, or perhaps suicidal. Even so, he waited until she had passed through the opening and until the door was on its way closed before calling out to her.

"Take care, Princess Precious!"

His door shut with a click, but it hadn't been fast enough to completely hide the glare of death that she had aimed at him. Thankfully, the door did not reopen to admit his fiery doom, but even so, he ended up spending a good ten minutes behind his desk, hiding and protecting his valuables.

xXx

When Axel pulled up in front of the house at the address Demyx had given him, he very nearly put the car back into gear and drove off again. He could tell, just by looking at the outside of the house, that he wasn't going to have any fun this evening. It was just so _normal_. The lawn was cut and neatly trimmed, there were a couple of lightbulb reindeer in the front as decorations, the windows all had electric candles in them, and a wreath hung on the door. It was the kind of house his mom had. Boring through and through.

He sighed and leaned his head against the steering wheel. This was going to be an "adult" party. Sitting around, snacking and talking. No music, no dancing, no karaoke or impromptu shots or games of beer pong. He should just leave the six-packs of Yuengling that he had brought in the car. Everybody in there would probably be drinking milk. It was going to be torture, he knew it. How he wanted to forget the whole thing and go hang with Marly and Larx instead.

But then Demyx would come after him with those damn puppy eyes and whine and whimper about how he had never showed. And Axel would writhe and squirm under that gaze for months afterwards and probably have to grovel on the ground before he would be forgiven.

"Aw hell," he mumbled to the dashboard. "Might as well just suck it up and do it. It's only one night."

It took him close to five minutes, but eventually, he had clomped his way to the front step and psyched himself up enough to ring the bell. He almost bolted before anyone could get to the door, but he forced himself to stand still and wait. When he heard the knob turning, he slapped on a cheerful smile and mentally vowed to inform Demyx that he owed him a batch of snickerdoodles for this.

The door opened to reveal a long-haired man with a cowboy hat on his head and a small child around his neck.

"Hello!" the man cried before Axel could even open his mouth. "You must be Axel." He pointed to his own head with the hand that wasn't full of child. "Hair gave it away," he grinned, and Axel internally congratulated himself for not rolling his eyes. "Come in, come in!"

The man moved aside and allowed Axel access to the front hall. As he stepped out of the cold and into the welcoming warmth of the house, Axel could easily hear the low buzz of conversation emanating from a nearby room, laced with the quiet music of Christmas carols. A resigned sigh built up in his throat, but he successfully kept it down.

"I came bearing gifts," he said to the cowboy, showing off his six-packs.

To his surprise, the man did not launch into a 'we don't drink that swill' speech. Instead, he grinned and pointed down the hall. "Kitchen is that way," he directed. "Make yourself at home. I'm Irvine by the way," he added, almost as an afterthought. "I'm the one who makes the money to pay for this house. The one who keeps it clean and standing is my wife Selphie. She's around here somewhere. And this," he finished, indicating the child who still hung about his neck, "is Angela. Say hi, Angie."

Axel turned his attention to the little girl in Irvine's arms with as child-friendly a smile as he could manage. Some part of his mind had noticed her staring at him ever since he had arrived, but he had ignored it. Now, however, it was hard to ignore the way her large green eyes bored into him relentlessly or the way her little finger rose at her father's voice and pointed at Axel directly between the eyes.

"Wed!" she announced.

Both men blinked at her for a surprised moment. Then, Irvine half-smothered a grin and replied, "Yes, sweetie, his hair is red. But it isn't polite to point."

"Wed!" Angela insisted, not moving her finger an inch. "Elmo wed!" She grinned at him and began wriggling her way out of her father's grasp. When he placed her gently on the ground, she looked up at Axel and said solemnly, "Wait. Get Elmo." A moment later, she was climbing her way on all fours up the stairs.

Axel turned his gaze to Irvine, his raised eyebrow clearly asking, _What the fuck was that all about?_

Irvine coughed a few times in an attempt not to laugh. Once he trusted his voice, he explained, "She's off to get her Elmo doll to show to you. Don't worry, I'll intercept her and distract her." He tipped his head in the same direction he had indicated earlier. "Kitchen's that way," he repeated.

Grateful, Axel nodded and set off down the hall. Demyx owed him snickerdoodles _and_ peanut butter cookies for this. The ones with the Hershey's kisses in the center.

The kitchen was big and bright and yellow. Very yellow, he noted with a slight squint of his eyes. Resolving to spend as little time in there as possible, he moved past the island in the center, covered in various types of snack food he noticed, and towards the fridge in the corner. He discovered to his surprise and delight that the interior of the appliance already had a decent amount of alcohol in it, including some drink mixes that looked like they had come from Luxord's bar. That made him feel minimally better, and as he took a beer for himself, he allowed himself to consider the possibility that this party wouldn't be quite as bad as he had initially thought.

"Wow. How much Kool-Aid did you use to get that color?"

Surprised, Axel stiffened a bit before turning around to see who had drawled out that insult to his hair. At first he saw no one, but then he allowed his eyes to slip downwards towards the floor. Sitting on the floor, leaning against the cabinets with a DS in his hands and buds in his ears, was a bored-looking kid. His blond hair perfectly matched the décor of the kitchen, and his eyes were so clear and blue that they seemed to shimmer like liquid under the bright lighting. Physically, he was very pretty, almost like a girl. He had attitude, though; Axel could tell and not just from the words he had used and the tone he had wrapped them in. His posture and expression breathed cynicism, and something dark resided in his eyes as well. It was very similar to the normal attitude that all teenagers wore, that rebellious anger towards the current world and its authority, but on this kid it was more than just a whiny attempt at attention. On this kid, it looked good; it looked _real_. Like his world-weariness came from knowledge and experience instead of peer expectations.

All of these observations took some time to make, and by the time he had finished, a delicate eyebrow had arched at him in question. A _what the hell are you looking at?_ Axel noted it and grinned. He had never been the type of man to be interested in pretty boys, but something about this kid had caught his interest. From somewhere within him, the urge to tease the little blond rose quickly to the surface. Yes, to tease him and see what the reaction would be.

In answer to the kid's question, he pulled on a lock of his fiery hair and bragged, "This is my natural color, baby."

The kid wrinkled his nose at him; it was actually cute. "No way," he predictably protested. "I don't believe you."

"Oh no?" Axel asked, happily rising to the unspoken challenge. He took a few steps closer and leaned down a bit so he could better meet the eyes of the kid on the floor. Grinning, he ran one finger along the waistband of his jeans and asked, "Want me to prove it to you?" And then he winked.

The kid's eyes widened ever so slightly as realization sank in. A second later, the shock had been wiped clean and replaced by indifference. "Yeah, no thanks," he drawled lazily. Those clear blue eyes refocused on the game console in their owner's hands. "Maybe some other time, like when I need a good laugh."

Axel bit his lip and tried not to beam like an idiot. The kid had _balls!_ The first time he had tried to "flash" Demyx, his friend had screamed like a woman, and Luxord had looked at him strangely for a week after being threatened. And they had both been his friend for years beforehand. This blond didn't know him from any other psycho who had walked in off of the street, and he had barely blinked. Axel could practically smell the challenge that crackled in the air. It was almost enough to make him drool.

"Now, now," he purred, leaning over the kid some more and purposely throwing his shadow across his screen, "don't be like that. It seems to me that you could stand to laugh a little more. For example, what are you doing sitting here alone in the kitchen when there's a party going on out there?"

Blue eyes glared up at him from above a painfully cute scowl. "I'm _trying_ to defeat this boss," the kid answered. "And since I really don't want to spend the next ten minutes doing the traditional mating dance, let's just cut the crap and get to the chase, okay? Where have I been all your life? Judging from how old you seem to be, I'd say elementary school. No, you can't have my phone number, and my sign is 'Stop'. And as a bit of passing advice, you might want to look up 'pedophilia' and 'statutory' in the dictionary the next time you can scrape together enough brain cells to read a book."

Axel blinked. And grinned. The kid had gone back to his game, shadow and all, so he focused his gaze on the mass of blond locks in front of him and fake-gushed, "Smart, spirited, and stubborn! I think I'm in love!"

His opponent didn't even move. In that moment, Axel knew he had just found his new obsession. Dozens of questions and urges flooded through his mind, all of them centering on the little blond before him. Just how thick were those walls of indifference? How long would it take and how hard would he have to push to see that little glimpse of surprise in those blue eyes again? Could he get more than that tiny bit out of the kid? How long would that take? What exactly was under that prickly exterior and was it worth excavating?

When Demyx found him, Axel was contemplating the type of reaction he might get if he poured a little of his beer over the bowed blond head in front of him. Luckily for all involved, the musician interrupted him before he could carry through on his experiment.

"Axel!" he cried, throwing his arms about his friend. "You made it!"

"I did," Axel replied, reluctantly dragging his gaze away from the kid on the floor.

"Well, come on into the other room," Demyx insisted with a pull on his elbow. "We're all chatting and playing with the baby and stuff. Come on!"

Axel allowed Demyx to lead him out of the kitchen and away from his new fascination without protest. However, once they had stepped out of the kid's earshot, he dug in his heels and forced Demyx to turn to look at him.

"Hey," he said in a low tone, "do you know who that kid was?"

"Which one?" Demyx asked with a confused tilt of his head.

"The one in the kitchen. Blond, blue eyes, 'fuck off and die' attitude."

"I didn't see any-" His friend's voice trailed off as the answer came to him. "That must have been one of the twins," he decided thoughtfully. To Axel, he explained, "Leon's ex and his wife adopted twin boys a few years ago. The brown-haired one is Sora and the blond is Roxas."

"Roxas," Axel repeated softly. His lips curled upwards on their own accord.

Demyx must have recognized the look in his eyes, for he frowned heavily and stated, "The kid is fifteen, Ax. _Fifteen_."

"What?" Axel replied with an innocent raising of hands. "I'm not interested in screwing him. Just screwing with him a little." He grinned some more and winked. When Demyx only sighed at him, he protested, "I'm not even gay, Dem. You know that."

"Yeah, I know that," Demyx answered, lifting a hand to his head. "But I also know that hungry look you get. Just …" He peeked out beneath his hand to gaze meaningfully at his friend. "Just remember that he's not legal, okay?"

"Yeah sure, I'll remember," Axel assured him airily. He snagged Demyx's elbow with his arm and began walking towards the room with all the voices. "Trust me."

Demyx sighed again, but Axel didn't hear it. His mind was already back in the kitchen with the enigmatic blond. _Roxas_. He grinned as the name rolled around in his head. Oh yeah, this party would be worth it after all.


	18. Roxas

_His blood is boiling, his teeth are grinding together, and he wants so bad to just_ **_destroy_ ** _something._

_"Punish me, too!"_

_"No," Cloud says. The man doesn't even look at him._

_"You can't take me away from Sora! You_ **_can't!_** _"_

_He can hear it. Cloud may think that the sound of running water drowns it out, but he can hear it. Sora is crying._

_"Sora is the one who kicked the soccer ball through the window, so Sora is the one who is cleaning up the dinner dishes by himself."_

_Frustrated beyond belief, he screws his eyes shut and breathes in and out once, very slowly. Fine, if that's the way Cloud wants to play it, then that's the way he'll play it. His eyes flash open and his arm darts sideways, hand reaching for one of Aerith's vases with the intent to smash the thing into a million pieces._

_Cloud's hand snags him around the wrist before he can get close. The man's hard eyes stare down at him in intense disapproval. "Don't be stupid," he says lowly._

_He staggers backwards from the taller blond, this man who may have adopted him but will never,_ **_never_ ** _be his father. "You can't do this!" he screams. "You can't keep me away from Sora! I won't let you!" He makes a mad sprint for the kitchen, but again, Cloud's hand is there around his arm, restraining him. "Let me go!_ **_Let me go!_** _"_

_Cloud says nothing, only walks swiftly away from the kitchen, oblivious to his kicks and screams as he drags along behind._

_When they reach the front parlor, the hated man pushes him up against the wall and leans down to be closer to his eye level. "Pay attention," he says sharply. "You are not Sora. You are brothers, and more than that, you are twins, but you are not the same person. You …" He jabs one finger into his heaving chest. "… are Roxas."_

_He snarls and struggles against the hand that is holding him against the wall. "I know what my name is," he snaps. "Now let me go!"_

_"No," Cloud replies. "And I'm not talking about your name. I'm talking about who you are. You and Sora are close, but you are not the same person. You are separate entities. You have your own individual lives, and no matter how much you may want to, you're not going to be able to spend every second of those lives with each other. There_ **_will_ ** _be times that you two have to be apart for more than a few seconds, and you have to accept that and learn how to deal with it."_

_"No!" he screeches, flailing wildly. Panic is rising in him now, replacing all his anger with wild hysteria. "I_ **_need_ ** _to be with Sora! I need him and he needs me! Sora!" He focuses all of his energy into one concentrated burst and manages to shove himself away from the wall for a whole second before Cloud has pushed him back again._

_"Listen to me, Roxas!" Blue eyes are boring into him, burning painfully. "Aerith agreed to home-school you two for now so that you can get used to living here without having to deal with the stress of public school, but she's_ **_not_ ** _going to be willing to do it forever. You two will have to go to school next year, and you both have to be over your crippling dependence on each other by then."_

_"We'll take the same classes! You can't separate us! No one can!"_

_Cloud shuts his eyes briefly and hangs his head a little, shaking it back and forth. When his gaze returns to him, it is even harder than before. "Remember those tests Aerith made you take last week? Those were for the school. You tested differently, Roxas! Your skill levels are_ **_not_ ** _the same. The school won't_ **_let_ ** _you take the same classes."_

_"No!_ **_No!_** _"_

_All self-control is lost as his world shatters. He screams and screams and screams, fists flying, legs kicking, trying to hit something, anything, everything. He makes contact with Cloud several times, but the man takes the blows without flinching, riding out the tantrum with unwavering patience._

_"I hate you!" he shrieks as the hysteria consumes him. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"_

_"Roxas!"_

_One word said in a soft, tearful voice, and his world realigns. Sora is here, Aerith's hand on his shoulder, misery in his face. Sora is here, filling the empty parts of his heart and making him whole again._

_"Sora," he whispers._

_And now Sora is in his arms, Cloud stepping aside as the two meet in a crashing of frantic sobs and whimpers and collapse to the floor together._

_After a pause filled with sniffles and hugs, the hated man speaks again. "You're turning thirteen in a couple of months. You can stay in the same room, but you're getting separate beds." They both scream at this, but Cloud cuts them off with a sharp, "Enough!" He stares at them, his eyes serious and strong but also full of something softer, something bordering on affection. "You haven't been here very long, so I understand that you don't feel safe," he tells them, "but the fact remains that you are. You're safe. Both of you. You're not alone anymore. You have me and you have Aerith, and neither of us are going anywhere. We'll protect you and take care of you so that you have the chance to grow, together as brothers and separately as individuals. Because as much as you don't want to, you need to learn how to stand on your own, side by side but on your own two feet. And when you do, I think you'll see what Aerith and I already have: that you are both unique and wonderful individuals, worthy of your own lives and capable of being much more to each other than a mere security blanket."_

_He turns and, after a quiet word with his wife in the entranceway, walks out of the room and down the hall without a backwards glance. Aerith gazes at them for a moment with sympathy but with a resolve of her own; she obviously agrees with her husband. Then, she is gone as well, leaving them to comfort themselves in privacy._

_Sora is trembling in his arms, and he is shaking as well. He hates that man_ **_so much_** _, and now the woman too for agreeing with him. Neither of them understand. He needs Sora to live and vice versa. It doesn't matter what Cloud or Aerith or the school or anyone else says or does. He will never give up Sora._ **_Never_** _._

_His shaking intensifies, and he buries his face in Sora's hair as he tries to stop it. His brother sobs quietly into his shoulder, small fingers clutching at the fabric on his back as if they will never let go again. He agrees with the sentiment completely and tightens his grip on the body in his arms as his own tears begin to fall._

_They will be together forever, and no one will ever come between them._ **_No one_** _._

xXx

Roxas sighed gently and shut his eyes, letting his head fall against the cold car window. Next to him, Sora hummed something unidentifiable and bounced slightly in his seat as he watched house after decorated house pass by. His brother's obvious happiness made Roxas smile.

They had gone out with Riku that morning. The blond had shown up in the same car that his brother had been driving previously and, after assuring Cloud that he was a very careful driver and followed the speed limit at all times, had taken Sora and Roxas to a few nearby shopping centers and then driven them downtown. Roxas had found a present for his father and had even bought one for Sora since his twin was far too busy flirting with Riku to pay attention to what Roxas was doing. Sora, on the other hand, had come home with nothing but an invitation to go to the movies with Riku later that week, and _that_ had only come about after Roxas had spent fifteen minutes pretending to sort through CDs that he had no intention of buying. Riku would never know how narrowly he had escaped being seized by the crotch and ordered by a frustrated Roxas to just grow a pair and ask his brother out already.

"All right, this is the street," Cloud's voice said to them from the front seat. "Help me look for the house. We want …" He checked the page of scribbled directions in his hand one more time. "… number 1804."

"There's 1759," Sora said, peering out the window into the darkness. "1761, 1763."

"It'll be on your side then, Roxas," Cloud told him unnecessarily. He slowed the car down so they could have more time to make out the numbers before passing the houses.

"Yeah, I know," Roxas replied. He opened his eyes, but instead of staring out the window, he turned his head the other direction and took a moment to gaze at his father and brother, their faces slightly lit up by all the red and green twinkling lights outside.

This past week had been unlike any other that Roxas had ever experienced. For seven whole days, Sora had been silly in love, and Roxas had been genuinely happy for him. He was a little jealous and, yes, felt a little threatened and slightly scared, but those negative emotions were nowhere near as strong as the positive ones he felt. The thought of giving Sora to Riku didn't disturb him nearly as much as he once thought it would. He knew in his heart that he would be able to let Sora go and still be okay.

Thanks to Cloud.

Roxas let his gaze linger on the man he called father and felt a twinge of guilt at the host of memories he held within him. He had screamed at Cloud so much during that first year, cursed him, struck him, tried to hurt him both physically and emotionally, tried with Sora to run away from home more than once. Cloud had never hesitated, never wavered, and never once backed down. He had forced Roxas onto the proper emotional path and dragged him down it until the smaller blond was able to continue walking on his own, and even then he had walked beside him, always there to provide help or support. Roxas owed the man so much, so very very much.

"Hey, Dad?"

"What?" Cloud replied distractedly. His eyes continued to scan the houses they passed, his lips moving slightly as he counted the numbers.

"I love you," Roxas said.

The slow-moving car nearly stopped as Cloud turned halfway in his seat to stare at his son in surprise. Roxas met the confused gaze with a smile.

"Um … I love you, too," the older blond said eventually, not sure of what else to say.

"I know," Roxas returned, his face breaking into a grin. "Hey, there's 1804!"

As Cloud turned back around to verify that the house with the light-up reindeer was in fact the one they wanted, Sora reached over and poked Roxas in the side. "What was that about?" he asked, eyebrows raising in incomprehension.

Roxas just shrugged and grinned some more. "Nothing really. I was feeling sappy." He waved a hand at all the blinking decorations. "Blame the lights."

Sora stared at him for a few seconds more before deciding that whatever it was that had turned his brother mushy wasn't all that important. Instead, he shrugged and unbuckled his seatbelt as the car came to a stop. Chuckling to himself, Roxas followed suit, and soon all three of them were walking up the narrow path to the front door of the house.

Cloud's ring of the doorbell was answered by a small brunette woman with a smile as bright as all the Christmas decorations they had passed on their way here. "Hi!" she cried happily. "You must be the Strifes. Come on in!" As they trooped in and went through the process of taking off their coats, she continued, "I'm Selphie, Squall's friend from high school. You're Cloud, right?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned slightly and sing-songed, "Irvy darling, the Strifes are here!"

A male voice floated back from further in the house, also sing-songing. "Okay, dear. I'll be right there."

Selphie turned back to them and began snatching the coats from their hands. Roxas just barely managed to extract his DS from a pocket before his was whisked away. "Not everyone's here yet," she chattered as she stole their outergarments, "but those who are are in this room here." She tipped her head towards the room behind her where voices murmured pleasantly. With another tip of her head, she continued, "The kitchen is that way, and the bathroom is right here in the hall. And Squall," she finished with a little gleam in her eyes as they rested on the tallest one in their midst, "is in the TV room with Angela. Go to the kitchen and take a right." She turned with a little flourish and promptly vanished up the stairs with their coats, leaving the three of them alone in the hallway.

Roxas turned to Sora and met his brother's slightly surprised eyes. A few quick, silent words passed between them, and then Sora had seized Cloud's hand and was pulling him down the hall. "C'mon, Dad!" he said cheerfully. "Let's go!" Cloud sent a brief look of panic towards his other son, but Roxas just grinned and followed behind, playing rear guard just in case Sora lost his grip.

They entered the brightly-lit and very yellow kitchen to find two men already there. One was Vincent, sitting on a stool at the island and nursing a glass of brown liquid. The other was the man they had met months ago in the bookstore, the one who had called to Selphie earlier. He looked up from the drink he was mixing to grin at them and say, "Good evening! Glad you could make it. Come on in and make yourselves at home." He gestured to the various snack foods that rested on the countertop as he continued, "We have munchies here and drinks in the fridge. I'm Irvine, by the way." His eyes twinkled as they alighted on Cloud, much in the same way his wife's had.

"Cloud," the other man said, continuing the introductions. "These are my boys, Sora and Roxas." While Irvine nodded like he hadn't known this, Cloud moved further into the kitchen and rested a hand on the third man's back. "Hey, Vin." Vincent just lifted a hand in greeting and went back to his drink. Cloud frowned at him for a moment, then prompted, "So?"

Vincent flinched a little and tipped his head further into his glass. "Not yet," he rumbled to the alcohol inside.

"Yeah, I figured," Cloud responded. "You look a mess. How many of those have you had?"

A little smile flittered across Vincent's face. He lifted one hand and tucked the thumb in to show four fingers. "Two," he said.

Cloud was not amused. "Okay," he announced, "you're done." Moving swiftly, he grabbed the glass out of Vincent's hand, set it down on the counter with a clink, and proceeded to haul Vincent off of his seat.

"Cloud! It was a joke!" Vincent protested as his arm was forcibly wrapped around his friend's shoulders.

"And you don't joke unless you're drunk," Cloud retorted. "You are hereby banned from the kitchen. Yuffie!" he cried, beginning to pull the other man out of the room and down the hall. "Come get your boyfriend and make sure he sticks to water for the rest of the night!" Yuffie yelled something in reply, but it was drowned out by Vincent's continued struggles and protests.

Left alone by themselves, Sora and Roxas exchanged a bewildered look of complete incomprehension. Then, almost at the same time, they shrugged and turned to the food.

Irvine was scratching his head as they approached. "Um," he said slowly, "do either of you know what that was about?"

"No," they answered in unison.

"Oh. Okay." A second later, he had shaken himself out of his confusion and was grinning again. "Would you like something to drink? We have Coke, Diet Coke, and ginger ale as well as purified water from the tap and a mountain of Sesame Street juice boxes. I have to tell you though," he said, switching his grin for a fake frown and shaking a finger at them, "that there will be no underage drinking on my watch." A moment of silence passed during which Irvine inspected his bare wrist. "However," he finally said with ridiculously blatant meaning, "it appears I'm not wearing a watch, and even if I was, I doubt either of you would be able to fit on it. Hmm …"

"Irvine," another voice interjected from a connecting doorway, "please don't tell me you're offering alcohol to minors."

Roxas stopped giving Irvine his best "you've got to be kidding me" look and turned at the sound of Leon's voice. The man stood in the doorway, hand in hand with a little girl who looked the spitting image of the woman who had greeted them at the door.

"Of course I'm not!" Irvine replied as the two crossed the room to the island. "What kind of man do you think I am?"

Leon shot him a look that clearly said exactly what kind of man he thought Irvine was, sat down on the stool that Vincent had vacated, and pulled the little girl into his lap. Her fingers immediately began to scrabble for a bowl of pretzels that sat nearby, so he plucked one out and handed it to her.

"Hi, Leon," Sora chirped, making Roxas smirk. "Nice to see you again." His eyes were firmly fixed, not on the quiet brunet, but on the child in his lap. Roxas rolled his eyes as he filled a plastic plate with chips and dip. Sora was inevitably attracted to small people under the age of six.

"Hello, Sora," Leon replied, smiling a little as he noticed where the boy's focus was. "Let me introduce you to Angela. Angie, this is my friend Sora."

Roxas blinked a little at that. Since when were they Leon's friends? But as he watched Angela inspect Sora with her wide green eyes, he realized that the man had said it to ease the girl's anxiety at meeting someone new.

"Hewwo," Angela said, and Sora visibly melted. He turned his head and mouthed, 'She's so cute!' to Roxas who only rolled his eyes again.

"All right, guys, I'm back," Cloud called as he reentered the kitchen. "Sorry about that …" He trailed off as his eyes lifted and met Leon's. The two men both froze, their eyes locked on each other, and something tangible clicked between them. Something soft and yet strong. Something that made Roxas grin to himself and Irvine start to whistle.

"So, boys," the man said brightly, slicing through the thick atmosphere easily. "What are you drinking?"

"Coke for me," Roxas answered.

"I'm good," Sora said. He turned to Angela and asked, "Did you want some juice or something, Angie?"

The little girl shook her head and instead began pulling on Leon's shirt. "Leelee," she said. When he didn't look at her, still caught up in his shared gaze with Cloud, she frowned and pulled harder. "Leelee!" she whined. "Weed! Weed, Leelee!"

Leon blinked and finally lowered his eyes to her. "That's right," he murmured half to himself. "We didn't finish our books." His brow furrowed and he frowned slightly, a torn expression hovering over his face.

"I'll do it!" Sora immediately offered. "I'll be happy to read you any book you'd like." He offered his brightest and happiest smile to the little girl in Leon's lap. "What do you say?"

Angela's fingers tightened around Leon's shirt for a moment, but as she stared at Sora's cheerful face, they gradually loosened. "'kay," she finally said.

"All right!" Sora offered his arms to her, and she lifted her own to take his. Scooping her up in his arms, he spun her around once, laughing with her as he did, and then walked off towards the other room where the books presumably waited. Just before he vanished with his new friend, he threw Roxas a look over his shoulder. _Make sure they stay together!_

Roxas smirked to himself as he watched Leon and Cloud interact as they fetched drinks and snacks for themselves. His father had relaxed and was acting more like his usual self, but there was the slightest tint of pink on his cheeks. And Leon was smiling as he looked at Cloud, a true smile that made him look younger and even more handsome than usual. There was still a lingering awkwardness in the air, but they were working through it, stepping past the strict boundaries that they had put on themselves and allowing their interactions to become just a bit more intimate. It wasn't nearly enough as far as Sora and Roxas were concerned, but it was a start.

Picking up his plate of food and the cup of soda that Irvine had handed him, Roxas turned his back on the ex-lovers and wandered away towards the rest of the guests. Tonight was certainly going to be interesting, and he rather doubted that he or Sora would have to do a thing to help it along.

xXx

An hour later, Roxas was bored. He had done the polite small talk thing with all of the adults, answered the exact same questions about himself and about their recent move at least three times, and even taken a turn entertaining Angela. As for the newborn, he had no interest in her and had refused all of Sora's offers for him to hold her. This seemed to endear him to the two-year-old who had invited him up to her room to play with dolls several times, but Roxas didn't feel like being _that_ much of a good sport. The worse his boredom became, the heavier the DS felt in his pocket and the stronger the pull to sneak off and entertain himself with it. He resisted for a while, but eventually he decided he had been good enough for long enough and gave in.

No one was in the kitchen at that particular moment, so he curled up against the cabinets, fished out his game, and plugged himself in. He had already beaten this particular Zelda game, but it was enjoyable enough to pass the time with again. For a while, he played in peace. Every so often someone would come into the kitchen seeking food or a drink, and once Sora had come seeking him, but he pretty much ignored everything except the little screen in front of him and the hero he was making run around on it. He quickly lost track of time and just played, content to sit there on the floor by himself.

When the stranger first passed by him on the way to the fridge, Roxas didn't even look up, but a momentary glimpse of bright red caught his eye and distracted him. His eyes lifted automatically and landed on a guy he didn't recognize - tall, skinny, and with a wild mess of hair that was the brightest, most vibrant shade of red he had ever seen. He hadn't meant to draw attention to himself, but the shock at seeing something so unnatural forced the words from his mouth before he could stop them.

"Wow. How much Kool-Aid did you use to get that color?"

The guy stiffened, then turned, and Roxas's breath caught as piercing green eyes searched the area over his head and then moved down to catch and hold his own. Now, _this_ guy was his type. Not pretty like Riku, but sexy all the same. His graceful movements thrummed with energy and life; his eyes and expression were shrewd, observant. He was far too old though, Roxas realized with growing disappointment. Roxas wouldn't have minded dating an older guy if he were, say, a high school senior or even a college freshman. A guy that looked old enough to date his dad was a bit much.

Maybe he had a younger brother … ?

Once a few minutes of complete silence had passed, Roxas realized that he had been staring and that, disturbingly, the other guy had been as well. He lifted an eyebrow at him, hoping to break them out of this frozen moment with a little attitude. Sure enough, the guy grinned, a predatory action complete with two rows of sharp, white teeth.

"This is my natural color, baby," he drawled, tugging on a bit of his impossibly red hair.

Roxas wrinkled his nose, both at the claim and the flirtatious way in which it had been said. Even if he had recently been assessing the guy's looks, that didn't give him the right to come on to Roxas. Didn't he know he was too old? "No way," he said in response to the other's statement. "I don't believe you."

"Oh no?" the laughing answer came. The guy closed the distance between them and leaned down to be closer to his eye level. His finger ran seductively along the waistband of his jeans. "Want me to prove it to you?" he asked with a wink.

Roxas nearly choked. The guy was sexually harassing him! He had an overwhelming urge to leap up and punch the pervert's lights out, but he restrained himself in time. Quickly pushing down his more violent thoughts, he settled a mask of indifference over his face and shifted his eyes back to his game. Maybe if he piled on the attitude and ignored him the guy would go away. "Yeah, no thanks. Maybe some other time, like when I need a good laugh."

"Now, now," the stranger cooed, undeterred, "don't be like that." His shadow fell across Roxas's screen, causing him to grind his teeth together in irritation. "It seems to me that you could stand to laugh a little more. For example, what are you doing sitting here alone in the kitchen when there's a party going on out there?"

God, this guy was a jackass! Didn't he understand that adults did _not_ make passes at teenage kids? All of his earlier positive thoughts about the guy had vanished. It didn't matter if he had a dozen younger brothers who were all just as sexy as he was; Roxas didn't want anything to do with anything associated with this asshole.

Determined to let the red-head know _exactly_ where he stood in Roxas's estimation, he snapped his angry eyes up to the sparkling green ones above him and stated, "I'm _trying_ to defeat this boss. And since I really don't want to spend the next ten minutes doing the traditional mating dance, let's just cut the crap and get to the chase, okay? Where have I been all your life? Judging from how old you seem to be, I'd say elementary school. No, you can't have my phone number, and my sign is 'Stop'. And as a bit of passing advice, you might want to look up 'pedophilia' and 'statutory' in the dictionary the next time you can scrape together enough brain cells to read a book."

Fuming, he returned to his game and played as best he could, which wasn't very good at all considering the bad lighting and the distractions. In fact, Sora would probably say he was getting his ass handed to him, but Roxas was too pissed at the moron who was harassing him to be that upset over his impending cyberdeath.

A moment later, the guy just made it worse by announcing, "Smart, spirited, and stubborn! I think I'm in love!"

Roxas ignored him. _Just go away_ , he chanted in his head. _Go away. Go away. Go away …_

The guy didn't, but eventually Demyx arrived and carted him off much to Roxas's relief. Unfortunately, Link was too far gone by then to save, and mere seconds after the two left the kitchen, Roxas was staring at a Game Over screen. He scowled down at it viciously, cursing the red-head who had appeared out of nowhere to torture him. At least he was free of the jerk now, and with luck, he would never have to endure anything like that ever again.

xXx

Roxas was ready to murder. Didn't matter who or how. He just wanted to _kill_.

"Roxie baby! There you are!"

Thirty minutes he had been dealing with this asshole. Thirty minutes! He couldn't even have a decent conversation with anyone because as soon as he started, the jerk would barge in and start groping him or making inappropriate comments. It didn't matter how much Roxas ignored him; the guy just would _not_ take a hint.

A lanky, long-legged body flopped down on the couch next to him, and Roxas suppressed a pain-filled groan. Across from him, Yuffie lifted her eyebrows at the interruption. Roxas ignored her expression and continued talking. Axel had thrown his arm along the back of the couch, but he ignored that, too. When long fingers began to crawl onto his shoulder, his own fingers itched with the desire to strangle, but he fought back the urge and instead leaned forward out of the offending digits' immediate reach.

"Axel," Yuffie laughed, cutting Roxas off mid-sentence. "What in heaven's name are you doing?"

"Just getting friendly with Roxie," Axel replied happily. "He's so cute that I just can't help myself."

Roxas's fingers twitched. It was getting harder and harder to resist throttling the jackass. "Excuse me," he said flatly, rising to his feet in an attempt to walk away yet again. This time, however, Axel snagged him around the wrist before he could get very far.

"Don't go, beautiful!" the obnoxious idiot said. "I'll just follow you like I have the previous four times. You might as well just stay here with me." He yanked on Roxas's arm, pulling the surprised blond backwards and directly into his lap. Green eyes were suddenly mere inches from shocked blue. Axel smirked a little as he added, "It'll save time that way."

Yuffie was giggling madly - on her way to cackling really - but Roxas did his best to ignore it. Harder to ignore was the way his heart was pounding against his chest at the very suggestive situation he was in at the moment. Narrowing his eyes and presenting his best scowl, he slid his hand slowly backwards along the couch as he asked, "What do I have to say or do to make you leave me alone?"

That damn smirk deepened, and Axel's eyes sparkled again. "Why would I want to leave you alone?" he asked back. "You're the girl of my dreams."

"And you," Roxas shot back, gaining confidence as his searching hand found the throw pillow it had been seeking, "are a fricking _pervert!_ " He slammed the pillow into Axel's face and used the momentary distraction to escape from the evil man's clutches.

Leaving behind Yuffie's howls of laughter, Roxas fled into the hallway only to run headlong into his twin.

"Whoa!" Sora cried, pinwheeling his arms to keep from falling over. "What the heck, Rox? What's the matter?"

"Sorry," Roxas apologized, but his focus was already off of his brother. His eyes were darting about, looking for an escape route or a safehaven.

"Oh Roxie baby!"

_Too late_. "Shit," he growled, making Sora's eyes widen comically. When a certain red-head entered the hallway, however, the brunet's expression sobered with understanding.

"Run for it," he whispered to the blond. "I'll distract him."

"No," Roxas replied immediately. He didn't want Sora covering for him. He could handle this asshole; he _could_. "I'll be all ri-"

A _slam_ directly behind him cut him off and made both boys jump. Roxas whirled around to find Axel pressed up against the opposite wall, separated from the twins by a straight-elbowed arm that ended on one side with a hand flattened out centimeters from Axel's head and on the other side with a very angry-looking Cloud.

Cloud looked directly into Axel's surprised eyes and, in his patented low, scary voice that always made Sora and Roxas tremble in their shoes, asked, "Would you please inform me as to why you are following my son around and continuing to bother him in spite of the fact that he has asked you multiple times to stop?"

Axel blinked. For a moment, he did nothing, just looked appraisingly at the man who was shorter than he was but who was well-built, rather strong-looking, and undeniably pissed. Then, he grinned. "Why?" he answered cheerfully. "Because it's fun."

Cloud's fingers were instantly in Axel's shirt, pulling him away from the wall, but Roxas was there in a half-second, hanging on Cloud's arm and holding him back. "Dad! Don't!" When Cloud shifted his eyes to look at him, he continued, "It's okay. I can take care of myself. Please, Dad."

A tense moment passed in which father and son stared at each other, neither willing to back down. Roxas was grateful to Cloud, and to Sora as well, for the support they were offering him, but the truth was he didn't want it. His parents had taught him to stand on his own, and he wanted to prove that he could do it. That he could handle being teased like this. That he didn't need to be rescued at the slightest sign of trouble.

All these things, Roxas tried to convey with his eyes as he looked at his father, and eventually, he seemed to get through. Slowly, Cloud relaxed. His fingers uncurled from Axel's shirt and his feet took a step back. Smiling slightly, he lifted his hand to Roxas and ran his fingers through the smaller blond's hair affectionately. "Okay," he said, filling Roxas with relief. "But know that you have my permission to kick his ass if necessary." Roxas nodded; he knew he could accomplish that if it came down to it.

Cloud stepped completely away from Axel and took Sora by the shoulder. Turning them both towards the main room, he threw one final warning glare at Axel and then walked away, leaving Roxas to deal with his problem on his own.

The second his family had disappeared, Roxas rounded on Axel with as much fire in his expression as he could muster. The red-head was grinning and looked as if he was ready to launch into more thinly-veiled harassment, but Roxas cut him off before he could start. He was going to end this. Now.

"Look," he snapped, "I've had enough. I don't know what you're trying to do by following me around and flirting with me nonstop, but you can just knock it off. I am not interested in you. Even if you were actually my age instead of my father's age, I wouldn't be interested because you're acting like a complete prick! In case you've forgotten, this party is supposed to be for me and my family, to make us feel welcome and to introduce us to the friends of our friends who live here. Well, you sure as hell aren't making me feel welcome. You're making me feel persecuted and degraded, and I am done with it!"

Axel's eyes were wide and slightly soft as they stared each other down, and for a moment, Roxas allowed himself to hope that he had finally gotten through to the man. But then the idiot spoke and ruined it.

"Wow. You are really cute when you're mad, did you know that?"

Roxas had never been one to condone solving problems with violence, but he had to admit that burying his fist in Axel's gut felt good. It felt really good.

His stomach punch had doubled the moron over on himself, so Roxas spoke his next words to the mass of red hair that was now on his eye level. "I am going to go back into that room," he said quietly and calmly, "and I am going to talk to my friends, old and new. You are not going to follow me. In fact, you are not going to speak to me or to anyone else in my family for the rest of the night. Do you understand?"

Axel lifted his head a little and, even though his eyes were watering and his face was pinched, managed a smile. "Yes, dear."

Roxas scowled but refrained from sending another punch into the guy's jaw. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Just as he was about to pass through the doorway into the other room, Axel's voice stopped him. "You don't have to be so worried, you know," he said. "I'm not trying to get you to go out with me."

Roxas paused, more surprised by the serious tone in which those words had been spoken than by the words themselves. He backtracked a few steps and gazed at Axel who had straightened up against the wall and was now staring at the floor between his feet. "Just what the hell are you trying to do then?" he demanded.

The tall man lifted a hand to his head and scratched at his hair. "Not sure," he replied with a shrug. "Maybe I'm just trying to be friends."

Roxas snorted. Of all the idiotic things that had come out of the man's mouth that night, that was probably the least believable. "If that's what you're doing," he sniped, "I gotta say you're pretty terrible at it."

Axel shrugged again and dropped his hand. "All I know is that the second I saw you I wanted to tease you and rile you up." He leaned his head back against the wall and tipped it in Roxas's direction. Grinning widely, he said, "You really are adorable, especially when you're pissed off."

"And you really are a pervert," Roxas returned.

"Maybe so, but I'm still sexy."

"You are _too old_ for me."

"Age is just a number, baby."

"Except when it lands you in jail."

"Ouch." Axel licked his finger and ticked off an imaginary tally in the air. "Score one for Roxas," he joked. "Look out for the short ones, ladies and gentlemen. They're dangerous."

Roxas rolled his eyes and turned away. "Whatever," he said flatly. "I'm through with this. Just stay the hell away from me."

Axel's chuckles followed him as he left the hallway, and he thought he heard a comment that sounded suspiciously like "adorable". Shaking his head, he made his way over to Sora who was talking to Selphie. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that this particular headache of his was far from over.


	19. Cloud

_He is sprawled out on his bed, reading, when the door opens and Vincent walks in. Like usual, the junior says nothing, does not even look at him, and like usual, the sophomore doesn't bother looking up from his book. In the past week, they have exchanged maybe a dozen words, maybe fewer. Each exists in his own world, separate and alone, and they like it that way. Interaction with others is unnecessary and unpleasant._

_When he had first transferred in, a new addition to the school for the new year, the hall RA had tried to warn him about Valentine. Reclusive, he had called him. Strange. It had taken exactly three days for the man to realize that the blond transfer was equally reclusive, equally strange. Made for each other, his hallmates whispered. Two of a kind. He and Vincent ignored them. They ignore them still._

_He turns a page of his book, the gold ring on his left hand glinting in the sunlight that slides in through the window. The reminder of his wife makes him flinch slightly. He should call her this evening, see how she is doing. The whispers that he must endure as a transfer - nineteen, married, not living with his wife - are without a doubt nothing compared to the ones she must suffer - eighteen, pregnant, not living with her husband. Just because he doesn't love her doesn't mean he doesn't care for her, doesn't think about her pain even as he slowly dies inside from the misery of his own._

_Across the room, Vincent is sorting through reference materials. A stack of books sits on one corner of his desk, a smaller stack of papers on another. The man moves to search for something in his backpack, turning away from his desk for just a second, and in that moment, his stacks shift. Books and papers tumble to the ground. Vincent lifts his dark head and glares at the mess._

_He shuts his book and rises from the bed. He and Vincent do not speak, but they are still roommates, and over the weeks, even without communication, they have become friends. Walking over to the other man's side of the room, he kneels down and begins to clean things up. When he lifts the first few books up to be taken, Vincent nods at him in thanks and accepts them before kneeling down himself._

_They clean in silence for a while, but then he stops suddenly. Vincent's stack of papers had held a few personal items; he knows this because he is now holding a photograph. A picture of a woman, a lovely face, long brown hair pulled back, a small hesitant smile._

_Across from him, Vincent freezes. He has realized what it is the other holds. His posture is tense, his expression cold but still slightly anxious, as he waits._

_"She's pretty," he says, lifting his eyes to his roommate._

_Brown eyes sink to the floor. "Yes," he replies._

_"Who is she?"_

_"My pain."_

_They sit in silence for a moment. Then, he hands the picture back and, once Vincent has accepted it, rises to his feet. A few steps bring him to his own desk, and he opens the drawer and begins to search. A moment later, he is back on the floor, handing over a different photograph. A man this time, proud, strong, beautiful._

_Vincent gazes at it. "Who?" he asks simply._

_"_ ** _My_ ** _pain," he replies._

_Dark eyes slide to the ring on his finger before lifting to meet solemn, steady blue. "I see," Vincent says. He hands the picture back._

_They part, each to his own side of the room and to his own studies. But something has changed. They still reside in their own solitary spheres, cut off from the rest of the world by their own will, but a line now exists between them. They are separate, but they are no longer alone. They suffer together. For some reason, that makes it just a little easier to bear._

xXx

Cloud watched from across the room as Vincent dealt with the embarrassment of having an affectionate girlfriend. As befitted her style, Yuffie had planted herself in the man's lap, her arms around his neck, and she was currently having a lively conversation with Zell, oblivious to the fact that the man who was serving as her chair was extremely uncomfortable. Cloud smirked to himself and shook his head. His friend had sobered up, but he still wasn't looking very good. If he didn't take action soon, Cloud just might have to go over there and give him a shove.

A nearby laugh pulled his attention away and immediately set him to looking for Roxas. He found the boy sitting next to Zell's wife Emily, talking calmly with her and smiling. Secretly, Cloud sighed with relief. Apparently, whatever Roxas had done with the stalker red-head once he and Sora had left had worked. He hadn't seen the man since that incident although he had heard Demyx mentioning to Luxord that he was hiding out in the TV room. That suited Cloud just fine. The idiot stayed away from his son, and he didn't have to draw blood during a party that had been thrown partly in his honor.

With Roxas found, Cloud automatically looked for his other son. Sora was, unsurprisingly, with Angela although it looked like the girl was tiring and quickly. As if drawn by Cloud's thoughts, Irvine chose that moment to swoop in and pluck his daughter out of Sora's arms. He called out a general good-night in her name to the room at large and promptly disappeared before the girl could protest. For a moment, Sora looked distraught at losing his playmate, but he soon shook it off and joined his brother.

His sons safe and accounted for, Cloud relaxed a little and repositioned himself against the wall where he stood. A small smile lifted his lips, and his eyes fell closed as a kind of quiet contentment settled over him. He could get used to these people, this setting, this feeling.

So far, the evening had been quite enjoyable - Axel incident notwithstanding. Leon had taken him around and introduced him to all of his friends, and each one had been interesting in their own way. Cloud was pretty sure that the high school friends and their spouses knew most if not all of the details of his past life with the man beside him - the expressions in their eyes spoke far louder than their voices - and yet they had all been kind to him, welcoming him and making him feel at ease. And Leon himself had been surprisingly relaxed and almost protective with the way he would check with Cloud every so often to make sure he was doing all right and didn't need anything. It almost felt like being with Squall again - comfortable, cared for, loved.

But no, Cloud thought as his eyes opened and fell on the man who sat in the chair next to him. No, that wasn't right. Leon wasn't Squall. Leon was who Squall had matured into. Wiser, grounded, stable. And, to Cloud's tremendous surprise even hours after learning of the fact, extremely good with children.

The bottle that Leon held in his right hand was nearly empty, and it began to squeak as Paige continued to suck on it. Gently, he pulled the nipple from her mouth and set the bottle down on the table next to him, picking up a small cloth in its place. As Cloud watched in quiet fascination, Leon covered his left shoulder with the cloth and then lifted the baby up so that she rested against his neck. He rubbed her back softly, up and down, until Paige burped and spit out a bit of the milk that had remained in her mouth. Satisfied, Leon cradled her back in his arms, used the now dirty cloth to wipe at her mouth, and then put aside the cloth to pick up a pacifier.

After placing the soother in her mouth, he looked up at Cloud and said, "Take her, will you? I need to go wash out the bottle."

Cloud's eyes widened in mild panic. Ever since he had arrived, he had steadfastly refused to hold Paige. He had a secret fear that he would drop her and give her brain damage. "Take her?" he echoed. "But I … I don't know …"

Leon's eyebrow lifted at his obvious discomfort in amusement. "What?" he asked. "You afraid of holding her? You're a father of two boys."

"Who were twelve when I got them," Cloud clarified. "I've never taken care of an infant before."

The other man smirked a little at him and rose to his feet. "Sit," he said, indicating the chair he had vacated with a tip of his head. "I'll teach you."

Cloud hesitated. He really didn't have the foggiest idea what to do with a baby. Yet Leon was smiling at him with such confidence, radiating such a powerful self-assurance that it almost felt magnetic. He felt himself rapidly weakening, losing more ground with every second. There was something strangely alluring about this domestic, familial side to the man he loved. Something sexy. It sent an odd, warm shiver down his spine.

"Hold out your arms," Leon instructed as Cloud sank into the seat. When the blond had complied, he gently laid the baby in the other man's embrace while saying, "Children this young don't have enough neck strength yet to support their heads, so you always have to make sure you support it for her. Otherwise, her head will fall to one side and she could get hurt."

"Okay," Cloud murmured, feeling awkward and frightened with a small living creature lying tucked into one elbow. The exchange had knocked the pacifier out of Paige's mouth, and she began to fuss. Cloud replaced it, but a moment later, she had spit it out again, beginning to cry as soon as it had left her mouth.

"You'll have to keep a finger on the pacifier until she falls asleep," Leon explained, popping it back into her mouth. "Eventually, she'll learn how to keep it there herself, but right now, she's not coordinated enough. Her tongue will push it out, and she'll get upset. Once she's asleep, though, she'll be fine."

"Aren't pacifiers supposed to be bad for her teeth?" Cloud asked distractedly. He was holding the soother in like Leon had said, but Paige seemed to be doing her darnedest to get it back out again.

A light laugh lifted his attention to the man next to him. "She doesn't have any teeth," he said, cleaning up the bottle and cloth that he had used to feed her. Giving Cloud a sideways glance, he continued, "Take it up with Emily if you want, but I wouldn't. The baby's hers and Zell's. Whatever they want to do with her is their business. If there are any negative side-effects to using it, they'll deal with them when the time comes. For now, I'm just glad I can use it. It prevents a lot of headaches."

With Cloud's attention elsewhere, Paige finally managed to push the pacifier past his finger and out of her mouth. Instantly, she began to squirm and whine. "I'm beginning to see that," Cloud said as he shoved it back in and began the battle again.

"Here." A clean cloth fell on Cloud's shoulder. "Just in case she spits up," Leon explained. "I'll be right back. You should be fine for the amount of time I'm gone. She just ate, so she'll probably fall asleep soon."

"A-all right …"

Leon smiled down on him. "Relax," he advised. "She's not going to explode or anything, and even if she does, both of her parents are right here. That's the best part of taking care of someone else's kid. If she gets to be too difficult, you give her back." When Cloud didn't respond, he leaned down and rested one hand on a tight shoulder. "Relax," he repeated. "They can smell fear, you know."

Cloud snapped his head up, staring at the other man with wide eyes. "Are you serious?" he demanded.

Leon chuckled, much to Cloud's irritation. "Not entirely," he confessed, "but they can sense it when you're anxious or unsettled, and it makes them unsettled, too. So relax." The hand on Cloud's shoulder squeezed slightly, giving a brief but welcome massage to the tense muscles there. Smiling, he stated quietly, "You'll be fine. I promise."

Before Cloud could respond, Leon was gone, leaving the anxious man alone with the baby and a twisting nervous feeling in his stomach. Taking a breath to calm himself, he looked down at the child in his arms. Big blue eyes stared back at him. Paige seemed to be studying him, analyzing his worthiness as a human being as she sucked happily on her pacifier.

Cloud risked a small smile. "You should go to sleep," he told her. "It'll be easier on both of us that way."

Paige didn't respond, just worked steadily on her soother, making it bob rhythmically in and out of her mouth.

Sighing, Cloud settled himself a little better in the chair and tried to relax. This wasn't so bad really. The baby wasn't actually doing anything except lying there, and she was warm and soft against his chest. It felt kind of soothing to hold her. Paige must have agreed, for her eyelids began to droop and the pacifier that he held steady with one finger faltered a little. Cloud watched, fascinated, as she slowly but surely dropped off to sleep. A little surge of protectiveness rose within him as he continued to gaze at her. It surprised him a bit - she wasn't his child - but instead of fighting it, he let it run its course, embracing both it and the warm layers of contentment that arrived in its wake.

"See?" a soft voice murmured from behind him. "I told you you could do it."

Cloud tipped his head back to find Leon looking down on him, a mixture of pride and affection shining in his eyes.

"Yeah," Cloud murmured back. "I guess I can." A sudden thought occurred to him, bringing with it a wave of gentle sadness. Leon must have seen it in his expression for the other man frowned a little.

"What?" he asked.

"I was just thinking," Cloud told him, turning his head back to look at the baby, "about Aerith. She wanted a child so badly. That first child was a mistake. We would have raised it and loved it and never breathed a word, but even so it was never supposed to be. Those other pregnancies, though, those were planned. More than anything she wanted a baby, and I …" He sighed and rested his head against the back of the chair. "… I wanted to give that to her."

Above him, Leon shifted and averted his eyes. "Cloud," he said after a moment of silence, "I thought I should tell you … I …" His cheeks flushed the tiniest bit as he all but mumbled, "I'm sorry for your loss."

Surprised, Cloud stared at him. "Thank you," he finally managed after several attempts. "I didn't love her, but it still was a loss. She didn't deserve to die so young."

"Yeah," Leon replied, still not meeting his eyes, "that's what I heard."

Something twisted within Cloud's chest, but it didn't feel bad. On the contrary, it felt wonderful. Leon had just acknowledged his wife in a non-confrontational way, had actually expressed condolences for her. The man had changed, even in the short amount of time between the day they had moved in and now. A little bit of lingering pain hovered around his eyes now and again, but it was only a shadow of what it had once been. And all that anger that had gripped him so tightly, it was just gone.

"Leon …" Cloud breathed, not even knowing that he had done it.

Gray eyes finally shifted to meet his, and their gazes locked, just as they had done before in the kitchen. Cloud felt like he was falling, like the rest of the world was blurring into nothingness. His heart throbbed and ached within his chest from the intense emotions that were racing through him unchecked. _God_ , he loved this man. He wanted this man. For years, those eyes had haunted his dreams, the pain at having lost them frequently too difficult to bear without tears. How many nights that first year had he lain in bed, a pillow stuffed in his mouth to muffle his sobs so that Vincent wouldn't hear? How many days had he sat in class, staring at a blank sheet of paper, not realizing he hadn't paid a bit of attention to the lecture until the class had already ended? How many evenings, even within the past few weeks, had he stood at the window, gazing out at the night sky and praying to anyone who would listen for just one more chance?

_Give me one more chance, Leon. Just one more._

Across the room, someone cleared his throat, causing the hypnotizing link between the two men to snap. Disappointed, Cloud turned his head away and towards the noise. Once he saw who had interrupted their moment, however, his irritation faded to be replaced with a slightly smug happiness.

Vincent was standing at one end of the room looking official. "Excuse me, everyone," he said, his voice slightly raised to carry over all the conversations. "May I have your attention for a moment?"

As the rest of the room quieted, Cloud snorted softly to himself and commented, "It's about fricking time."

"About time for what?" Leon asked, but Cloud just shook his head and smirked.

As soon as the room had fallen quiet, Vincent began, "I realize this party is supposed to be for Cloud and his family as well as for Zell and Emily and their new baby, but I hope that everyone won't mind if I add one more reason to celebrate to the evening." He turned his attention to the new mother and her husband as they sat on the couch. "I've already received permission from Cloud to make this announcement. May I have yours as well?"

"Of course!" Zell replied before Emily could speak, although her smile said that she agreed with him. "Go ahead and pile it on. The more reasons to party, the better!"

"Thank you." Vincent gave them both a small half-smile before returning his attention to the room at large. One of his hands was fisted in a pocket, but that was the only sign to show just how nervous Cloud knew he was. "Some of you already know this, but my company has recently been considering me for a managerial position. Last week, they officially offered me the promotion and I accepted."

"Congratulations!" Selphie chirped.

"Yeah, man," Irvine agreed from her side. "Good for you!"

Cloud's eyes had shot to Yuffie. Her reaction had not been as favorable, as was to be expected. She gazed up at her boyfriend from her seat next to him, but her face had completely shut down. She obviously thought she knew what was coming, and she wasn't happy about it.

"Thank you," Vincent was replying to the many congratulations that had come his way. "I'm very excited myself about this opportunity. Unfortunately," he said, steeling himself with a visible straightening of his shoulders, "the position requires me to move to the other side of the country. Many of my friends have complained that they don't see me enough. I'm afraid that starting in March, you will see me even less. I may be able to visit two or three times a year, but I doubt that it will be more than that."

The room had fallen quiet again, eerily so. As if led by one mind, all eyes had turned to Yuffie. She had fixed her dark gaze unwaveringly onto her boyfriend, waiting grimly for him to continue. One hand still buried in his pocket, he lifted his free one to her in a silent request for her to get to her feet. Mechanically, she gave him her hand and allowed herself to be helped up.

_She thinks she's getting dumped_ , Cloud thought to himself as he watched her face. _She's pissed because she thinks he's going to dump her right here in front of everyone_. He smiled down to the sleeping baby in his arms and waited, enjoying the fact that he knew more than anyone else at the moment.

"Yuffie," Vincent said in his soft voice. "I told you before that I wasn't going to make you choose between me and the rest of your life. Your job is here, your friends and family are here. I said I wasn't going to ask you to give that up for me." He paused, a little smile settling over his lips before continuing, "I'm sorry, Yuffie, but I'm going to have to go back on that promise."

Her eyes widened a little in realization as finally that hand emerged from his pocket and joined its partner to grip both of her own. "Yuffie," Vincent smiled, "when I go, I want you to come with me. Please. I know it's selfish, I know it's asking unfair sacrifices from you, but I can't help it. I don't want to be without you anymore." Shutting his eyes briefly, he inhaled one strong, steady breath and then opened his eyes again with the widest, brightest smile that any of them had ever seen. "Yuffie," he said in a clear voice, "I love you."

Most of the people in the room were close enough to the couple to know of Vincent's persistent inability to confess his feelings, so little gasps rang out all around at his statement. Yuffie looked like she was about to cry. Her hands flew from his to cover her trembling lips.

"Oh, Vin …" she breathed.

Cloud's eyes darted around the room - from Zell's shocked face to Selphie's clasped hands of excitement; from Emily's budding tears to Sora's and Roxas's wide foolish grins; from Demyx clutching Luxord's arm like a lovestruck girl to Irvine's little smirk as he wrapped his arm about his wife. The happiness and support of the room was wonderful, but he didn't let himself enjoy it long. Quickly, he refocused on the couple of the moment. The best was yet to come.

"Vin," Yuffie said again, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. "Of course I'll come with you. I love you, too. So very much."

"Yuffie," Vincent replied gently, "thank you. But I have one more question I need to ask you. Here, in front of all our friends."

In one sharp movement, the hand plunged back into the pocket and this time emerged with something clasped in its fist. Something small that held something even smaller. Something that Cloud had spent _two hours_ helping Vincent pick out. Something that he had almost taken back half a dozen times, only stopped by Cloud's voice of reason and steadfast support. Something that he had carried around all night, slowly being eaten away by the worry and nerves caused by it until he had found the courage to bring the evening to this one moment.

Selphie shrieked once as Vincent's tall frame bent to half its normal height, one leg in front of him, the other bent and supporting his weight. His clasped hand opened, the other quickly grabbing the object it held and flipping up the top to expose the diamond ring inside. As Yuffie stared down at him in mind-blanking shock, he gazed up at her, obviously terrified but still smiling.

"Yuffie Kisaragi, Warrior Princess of Wutai," Vincent Valentine asked, "will you marry me?"

A second passed. Two. Ten. Yuffie just stood there, staring down at her patiently-waiting boyfriend. Then, just as Vincent began to fidget and someone cleared her throat with the probable intent of giving the woman a push, Yuffie dropped her hands, opened her mouth, and _screamed_.

"Yuffie!" Leon shouted as Paige immediately woke up and began howling.

"I'm sorry!" she cried, whipping around to face him. "I'm sorry, Paige! I'm sorry, everyone! I'm sorry, but … but …" She turned back to her boyfriend, her eyes streaming and her body shaking. "But … but … _aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!_ "

As the second scream left her, she tackled Vincent, sending them both to the floor. Not even bothering to try to regain her balance, she began kissing him anywhere she could reach as he laughed and tried to sit up.

"Is that a 'yes', Aunt Yuffie?" Sora called from the other side of the room.

"Of course it is!" she shrieked, practically bawling as she continued to kiss Vincent desperately. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Y-" Her cries cut off as Vincent finally found enough balance to take her face in his hands and kiss her lips. She instantly wrapped her arms around his neck and returned it with abandon.

While the newly-affianced couple kissed, Cloud eagerly handed the screaming baby in his arms back to her mother. "I thought you said she wouldn't explode," he complained jokingly to Leon as Emily began to bounce and shush her daughter.

"Well, including Yuffie in the equation changes everything," Leon grumbled back, although he couldn't completely hide the grin in his lips. A moment later, his eyes softened even further, and he murmured, "Good for them."

Cloud looked back to the couple on the floor and found that Vincent had managed to keep Yuffie still long enough to slip the ring onto her finger. She stared at it happily for a few seconds, then tackled him to the floor again. Cloud was very pleased to see that his best friend was laughing again and looked far happier than he ever had before.

_Congrats, Vince. You have no idea how happy I am for you. And I'm proud of you for taking all that pain and pushing it aside so you can move forward. Let it stay in the past where it belongs. Be happy. You deserve it._

Smiling, Cloud leaned back in his chair. "Yeah," he replied to the man who represented his own pain and his own second chance. "Good for them."

xXx

At the end of the night, Cloud couldn't find his gloves. He had searched his coat pockets and come up empty. A quick pushing around of the other coats that still lay on the bed also produced nothing. Sora and Roxas had helped him look for a while, but he finally sent them out of the room to check the halls and stairway while he knelt down on the floor and began looking under the bed. Irritation rose in him quickly. It was late and he was tired; he wanted to be on the way home, not scrounging about the floor looking for a damn pair of gloves.

"Where are you, you stupid things!" he growled as he got to his feet. His bare hands grabbed the remaining coats and began shoving them around again, this time shaking them to see if the gloves had stuck.

"Do you mean these stupid things?" someone asked from the doorway.

Turning, Cloud discovered Leon standing there, his gloves held out in one hand. "Where the hell did you find those?" he demanded.

"Roxas gave them to me and told me to bring them to you," the other man replied calmly, raising one eyebrow at Cloud's anger. "Do you want them, or should I go burn them at the stake?"

Sighing, Cloud crossed quickly to him and snatched the gloves out of his hands. "I'll take them, thanks," he said, pulling them onto his hands. "They must have fallen out when Selphie brought the coats up earlier."

"I guess." Leon's hands were shoved into his pockets, and his eyes were averted from Cloud's face, but he made no move to get out of the doorway and let the other by. Slowly, he said, "It was … nice … seeing you … tonight."

"Yeah," Cloud agreed with a little smile. His stomach fluttered a little with the beginnings of shyness. "It was fun. We … we should … do it again sometime."

A little smirk blossomed on Leon's lips. "You asking me on a date?" he teased.

"I'm the pretty one," Cloud teased back. "You should ask me."

Those stormy eyes lifted suddenly, and the seriousness in them stole Cloud's breath away. "If I ask," Leon said, "will you say yes?" There was something new smoldering in his gaze, low and quiet for now but definitely there.

"Yeah," Cloud managed to answer. "I will."

"Then, after Christmas sometime … ?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay."

The conversation died utterly, but they still stood there, looking at each other. Cloud's heart was pounding in his throat, but he tapped into the deepest reserves of his self-control and continued to stand calmly with as blank an expression as he could manage. More than anything, he wanted to take just two steps closer to Leon, cradle his face in his hands, and kiss those lips that he had been craving for six long, lonely years. But he couldn't, not if he wanted to make good on the chance that it seemed he had been given. To make this work, he would have to go at Leon's pace, no matter how slow that was.

The man was still looking at him, his expression unreadable other than the softly glowing fire in his eyes. Even though Cloud wanted nothing more than to return that gaze for the rest of the night, he lowered his eyes and, since he couldn't step forward, took a step to the side.

"I should go," he said. "Sora and Roxas are downstairs probably wondering what's taking me so long."

"Cloud."

At the sound of his name, spoken with a quiet intensity, his eyes shot up of their own accord. Cloud froze. Leon had taken that step forward himself and now stood easily within touching distance.

Swallowing, he lifted his chin and tried not to tremble. "Leon," he said back.

Leon's hand moved. Slowly, jerkily, it lifted and rose all the way to Cloud's face. Fingers reached out and, slowly, tentatively, brushed along his cheek.

A shaking, shuddering sigh escaped through his lips against his will. It had been _so long_ since anyone had touched him. To feel another's skin on his own, especially in such a gentle, intimate way - he very nearly melted on the spot.

Leon's eyes had ignited further at Cloud's involuntary reaction, and his fingers grew bolder. They carefully caressed his cheekbone, tracing it backwards until it met his jaw and then traveling down towards his chin. The other hand was on his shoulder now, and it held him there in a firm grip. Cloud had no intention of escaping, however. He leaned a little into Leon's touch, releasing another small sigh as those warm fingers lightly brushed over his lips. His heart had left his throat, rising to beat wildly in his ears. More than likely that was why he didn't hear the feet tromping down the hallway until their owner was right outside the door.

" _Da-aad_ ," Sora's voice whined, "what is _taking_ you so … oh."

The warm fingers with their intoxicating touches fled from Cloud's face as Leon jumped backwards and whirled to face the boy who was staring at them slack-jawed.

"I'm sorry!" he cried immediately, hands waving in front of him as he backpedaled. "I didn't mean to interrupt. So, um, carry on." He turned and fled back the way he had come.

A moment later, they heard him shriek, "Roxas! Why didn't you warn me?!"

"About what? … Wait. Where were you just now? Sora! _What did you do?!_ "

"Don't blame me! I didn't know! Next time _tell me_ before you set them up!"

Cloud couldn't help it; he laughed. He supposed he should feel embarrassed by the whole thing - kind of like how Leon obviously felt - but he was just too tired and the situation was just too funny. So he laughed. He laughed until his stomach hurt and he had to prop a hand against the wall to support himself. Until his eyes were watering and his breath was starting to hiccup. Until Leon started laughing with him.

"Your sons," the brunet commented, "are dangerous."

"Aren't they though?" Cloud returned, wiping the tears from his eyes. "They'll be the death of me yet." Another tear slid down his cheek, and he reached up to catch it.

Leon's hand beat him to it. Softly, the other man wiped the tear away and then cradled the side of Cloud's face in his palm for a moment. "I hope not," he said gently, referring to the blond's comment. "I'm only just starting to appreciate having you in my life again. I really don't want to lose you a second time."

The hand started to pull away, but Cloud caught it with his own and held it there against his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere this time," he replied, the steadiness in his own voice surprising him. "As long as you want me in your life, I'll stay. Hopefully, it'll be long enough to prove to you that I do love you and to show you just how grateful I am for this opportunity to try to fix what my previous bad choices destroyed."

"Cloud," Leon murmured in response and took a step forward. But Cloud took one back and dropped their hands from his face. His heart was beating normally again and his mind had cleared, and both were telling him that what had already been said this night was enough for now. Take it slow, they advised him, and this time do it right.

"Good night, Leon," he said with a smile. "I'll be waiting for your call once Christmas is over." Stepping quickly around the other man, he exited the room and walked down the hallway. His feet felt light as he descended the stairs, and he couldn't seem to get the smile off of his face. For the first time since his soul had shattered, it felt like the pieces were starting to mend, and it felt so very, very good.

Yuffie was at the bottom of the stairs, chatting happily with Selphie, and he couldn't resist scooping her into his arms and spinning her once, finishing with a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Congratulations," he whispered in her ear as he put her down.

"Wow, Cloudy," Yuffie gasped, stunned, "what's gotten into you?"

"Who knows?" he answered vaguely, giving her a happy grin before walking off to see where his sons had wandered to. He would have to have a little talk with Roxas about setting him up like that and make sure that both boys understood that those kinds of tricks were unacceptable.

From this point on, any tricks to get him and Leon alone would have to be cleared with Cloud before they were put into action. Right of first refusal was a parental privilege after all.


	20. Christmas

_Leon_

The house looked exactly the same as it had last Christmas. It even had the same mismatch of lights, his father obviously forgetting yet again to measure the house before decorating. The siding looked a bit more weathered and a few of the bushes in the front a bit larger, but in general, Leon could easily convince himself that he had traveled back in time one year.

_Which means_ , his selfish side insisted, _that you've already fulfilled your filial duties for the year, so just go back home already_.

It was tempting, _very_ tempting, especially when he considered that he would have to spend the entire day in the company of that man. The women would be disappointed, though, and Leon owed them this one day a year in exchange for all they had done and still did for him. He couldn't run and hide, no matter how much he wanted to.

Steeling himself for the inevitable, he stepped up to the front door and rang the bell.

The petite young woman who opened the door smiled fondly at him. "Squall!" she greeted. "You came!"

"Hello, Sis," he said as she stepped back to let him in. "How have you been?"

His step-sister shut the door behind him and swooped in for a hug before he could remove his coat. "I've been well," she responded, wrapping her thin arms around his neck. Delicate fingers tugged on his hair. "Your hair's gotten longer again. A little more and you'll look like Dad."

Leon grimaced, extremely disgusted by the suggestion. "Tomorrow I'll shave my head," he half-joked.

She laughed, but before she could reply, another voice floated to them from the living room. "Elly, is that my darling Squall at the door? Has the prodigal son returned to the nest at long last?"

Ellone snagged Leon's arm as he immediately turned and tried to bolt. "Yes, Dad," she called sweetly even as she inserted herself between her step-brother and the door. Many long years of experience had taught her well.

A moment later, Laguna appeared in the hallway, all smiles and open arms. "My boy!" he cried, rushing to Leon's side and catching him in a tight hug. Leon instantly froze and, shutting his eyes, tried to find his happy place as his father proceeded to squeeze him to death.

"Where are the presents?" Laguna asked once he had satisfied his need for physical affection. "You did bring me a present, right?"

"Dad," Ellone chastised gently as Leon mumbled, "They're in the car."

"It's not a book again, is it? I'm so tired of books."

"Dad!"

"What?" Laguna asked her with wide-eyed innocence. "Kiros is _always_ making me read at work. I don't want to be forced to read at home, too."

Leon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache that was forming. This was why he hated coming home. Because his father was an idiot.

"Where's Mom?" he asked, wanting back-up.

"In the kitchen," Ellone replied. She laid her hand on his back and gently pushed. "Why don't you go in and say hello?"

"I'll come, too!"

"No, Dad. Raine banned you from the kitchen, remember?"

"Oh, that's right." Laguna's face fell a little, but he brightened again within seconds. "Well, you go in and see your mother and then come hang out with Elly and me. We have a lot to chat about!" Waving happily, he disappeared back into the living room from whence the sound of Christmas songs, slightly off-key, began to emanate.

Sighing, Leon finally removed his coat and handed it to Ellone. "Mom banned him from the kitchen?" he asked.

"Oh yes," she replied, taking it and hanging it up in the hall closet. "He tried to help her bake some cookies. There was flour everywhere."

"I can just imagine." The mental images that were flooding into his head were not pleasant. "I'm surprised all she did was kick him out."

"She made him clean it all up first," Ellone supplied, smiling at him. "Then she kicked him out." Returning to his side, she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him. "It's good to have you home, Squall."

"I want a hippopotamus for Christmas!" Laguna's voice sang out merrily from the other room. "Only a hippopotamus will do. Mom says a hippo will eat me up but then … Teacher says a hippo is a vegetarian!"

Leon pinched his nose again at the ridiculousness of the man who had provided him with half of his genetic code. "This isn't my home, Sis," he protested.

"Home is where you're loved," she insisted, pushing him towards the kitchen again. "Now go see Raine. I'll keep him entertained for a while." With a final smile, she slipped away.

Sighing, Leon moved forward, away from the door and escape. It was only one day of the year. One day to make his mother and step-sister happy with his presence. Just one day …

"No crocodiles or rhinoceroseses! I only like hippopotamuseses, and hippopotamuses like me too!"

One long headache-filled day.

xXx

_Irvine and Selphie_

"Please mommy duck … please mommy duck … please mommy duck, la la la la an' a leaky duck."

Irvine looked up from the book that Squall had given him for Christmas to smile down at Angela as she played with her new baby doll and sang what she believed to be the lyrics of "Feliz Navidad". The aftershocks of a two-year-old opening a mountain of presents still lay about them in scattered bits of paper and ribbons, but he and Selphie had decided to clean it up later. For now, he was content to sit curled up in his favorite chair, a mug of coffee in one hand, a book in the other, and his daughter on the floor at his feet. Let Norman Rockwell paint this scene; this was a true family Christmas. All that was missing was his beautiful wife, still in her robe and slippers, hanging about his neck and whispering about dinner plans in his ear.

"Oh Irvy, dear …"

"My sweet love," he replied joyfully, "how did you know I was just thinking about you? You must be a mind-reader."

Her arms snaked around his neck, and she giggled sweetly in his ear. "Bet you can't read my mind," she teased.

"Are you here to talk to me about baked ham and roasted potatoes?" he guessed.

"Nope."

"Then, you're right. I can't read your mind." He closed the book, laid it in his lap, and laced the fingers of his now-free hand with Selphie's. "What do you need, my darling?"

Selphie leaned in close so that her breath tickled the skin of his ear and whispered, "I want another one."

Irvine blinked, not understanding. "Another what, Selph?" he asked, trying to turn his head to look at her but being stopped by her grip. "Another bracelet? Because while I would love to bedeck you fully with jewels, I can't really afford to at this stage of my career."

"No silly," she laughed against his neck, sending unexpected tingles down his spine. Then, in an even softer whisper, she clarified, "Another _baby_."

A moment of silence passed during which Irvine successfully jumpstarted his brain again. "I see," he finally responded. "Well, love, I don't think I can get you one right away. You'll have to wait a bit."

"I know," she giggled again. "But at least we can start working on it now." Slyly, her tongue darted out and grazed along the edge of his ear, making him shiver and nearly lose control of his coffee.

"And what about the one we already have?" he reminded her once he had composed himself.

"I've got Grandma on speed-dial," she breathed. Then she took his earlobe in her teeth and gently pulled.

Irvine swallowed and placed coffee and book on a nearby table. Calmly, he rose to his feet, stooped to pick up Angela, and turned to his grinning wife.

"Get the phone."

xXx

_Zexion_

It lay there on his table, completely unassuming in appearance. Just a rectangle of brightly-colored paper with a stick-on bow. It wasn't the only Christmas present he had received that year; it wasn't even the largest or the most impressive. Even so, Zexion was terrified of it.

_Dear Echo-ho-ho,_

_Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy these. Let me know if you like them._

_Signed, Demyx_

He had already opened the card from his parents containing its usual assortment of gift cards, the sweater from Lexeaus, the book from Professor Vexen (bought from Leonhart no doubt), and even the completely unwanted basket of sausages and cheese from Professor Xaldin (because he was "too scrawny" and "needed to eat like a man".) As for this last present, he just stared at it, unable to bring himself to open it.

He guessed it was books. It was shaped like a couple of books placed on top of each other: generally rectangular in shape but decreasing in area as the height increased. Demyx worked for Leonhart after all, so it would have been an easy gift for him to obtain, and considering Zexion's enjoyment of the written word, it was a fine gift to give. So, it was books. Books were good. If it turned out that they were titles he already had or ones in which he had no interest, he could just give them away like he planned to do with the sausages and cheese. There was no reason at all to be apprehensive about this gift.

So why couldn't he make his body move and open the stupid thing?

Angry at himself, Zexion snatched the present off of the table and ripped at the paper. When he realized he had closed his eyes, he forced them open with a snarl of frustration and pointedly stared at the objects in his hands. One was a book; the other was a box. A book of Sophocles in its original Greek, and a box with the Rosetta Stone logo printed in large letters on the front.

Stunned, Zexion sat down hard in a chair and stared at his gifts. He had, in passing, mentioned to Demyx that he liked to read the classics but that his Greek was not good. Demyx had responded by challenging him to learn Greek and offering him both a tool with which to do it and a reward for when he succeeded. Clearly, he would need more than this beginner-level conversational software to be able to read something as complex as Sophocles, but it was a start. The gauntlet, in a sense, had been thrown, and he could easily imagine Demyx standing there in front of it, one hand on a slightly-cocked hip and a grin of expectation on his face. Zexion was floored.

And more than that, he realized slowly as his hands began to shake with emotion. Laying the box in his lap, he gently pulled the book to his chest, dipped his head, and shut his eyes. Once again, Demyx had managed to take Zexion's clean, clinical world and fill it to bursting with sunlight and color. With barely a thought, he had taken the scientist's heart and given it a good shaking, as if curious to see what sound it would make when rattled. Zexion was shocked, yes. Stunned, overwhelmed. But he was also immensely, immeasurably grateful. More so than he could ever begin to express in any language.

"Thank you, Demyx," he whispered into the silence of his apartment. "Thank you."

xXx

_Demyx and Axel_

"Who wants cookies?"

"I do!" Axel replied to Demyx's question, not taking his eyes off of the screen for a second in spite of the alluring smell that was currently wafting in from the kitchen.

"I'll take one, too, Demyx," his opponent said from his side. On the television, their characters' cars smashed together briefly, and Axel took the opportunity to poke the other man in the ribs with his elbow. "Ow! Do you mind?"

"Stay out of my way, Pinky," Axel ordered, sending Mario shooting forward and narrowly avoiding a series of obstacles.

He could hear rather than see Marluxia rolling his eyes at him. Ever since the light-haired brunet had dyed his hair pink for one Halloween, he had been completely unable to rid himself of the nickname. "Go ahead and cheat if you want," he sneered at the red-head. "I'm going to beat you anyway."

"Brave words for the man who's eating my dust."

"Who's eating whose dust now?"

"Hey! Where did you … ? Grrr … just you wait, you homo. I'll get you yet!"

"I'm a homo? I'm not the one who was making passes at an underaged boy-toy the other night."

Mario skidded completely off of the road and collided rather unceremoniously with a large mushroom.

Hitting the pause button, Axel spun in his seat and opened his mouth to yell at Demyx. A warm gingersnap shoved its way into his mouth instead.

"Here you go, Marly," Demyx said, handing another cookie to the other man. To Axel, he chided, "And don't glare at me like that. I didn't tell him. I would have had every right to, though. You made a complete ass of yourself _and_ you put me in a very uncomfortable situation with my boss. I'm still not sure I've forgiven you entirely."

"I said I was sorry," Axel mumbled around his mouthful of cookie.

Marluxia laughed at him. "Why'd you do it anyway, Firebird?" he asked. "I know you like to yank people's chains, but a kid? He was really that irresistible?"

The mention of Roxas brought an involuntary grin to Axel's face. Turning to his smirking friend, he answered, "You should have seen him, Mar. He's adorable. And he has serious spunk. Attitude, but not, you know, just for the sake of having it. The kid is real, he's intriguing, he's -"

"He's fifteen," Demyx interjected with a fisted bonk on the top of Axel's head.

"Which is only important if I want to screw him which I _don't_ ," Axel insisted grouchily. "Why won't anyone believe me?"

"Because you were flirting with him like a cat in heat," Demyx answered, wandering away to the small kitchen of Axel's apartment. The other two began to hear the sounds of baking trays moving about as he continued, "My mom loves cats, you know. We had one go into heat once, and she tried to fuck the refrigerator. Wailed her little head off. _Meow-wow-wow-wow-wow-wow_ …" He stuck his blond head back out and grinned at them. "Just like that."

Marluxia doubled over on himself laughing, but Axel just glared at his best friend. "What?" he asked. "Like the way you go all soft and gooey-eyed every time you talk about your stalker boyfriend?"

"What's this?" the brunet demanded, crawling up onto his knees and looking at them both hungrily. "Demyx has a stalker boyfriend?"

"He is _not_ my boyfriend," the musician clarified with a small pout and a hand on his hip. "He's just my friend. Yes, he started out as a sort-of stalker, but that's all been resolved now."

"And yet you still don't know his name," Axel pointed out viciously.

"At least he's legal!"

"How do you know? You've never met him!"

"I don't need to meet him! I can tell by the way he writes, the things we talk about."

"The way he followed you around for a year and took pictures of you in secret."

"At least he likes me! Roxas hates your guts!"

"That is not true!'

"He punched you!"

"I provoked him. When I wasn't riling him up, he was pretty civil to me."

"'Pretty civil.' Oh yeah, that's a glowing endorsement. Remind me to go pick out a wedding gift for you two tomorrow."

"How many times do I have to say that I'm _not_ interested in him?"

"I don't know. How many times do you plan to light up like a Christmas tree whenever someone mentions him?"

" _I do not!_ "

"You most certainly _do!_ "

"Oh sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Marluxia proclaimed, clasping his hands before him in mock-rapture, "I am in Heaven indeed! Such wonderful romantic conflict all wrapped in a lovely covering of obliviousness. I don't think I've ever received such a perfect present before." When Demyx and Axel just glared at him, he dropped the act and smirked at them both. "As an impartial third party, I'd just like to say that you're both in love and you're both idiots. Now …" He turned and flopped back in front of the television with his game controller, "Demyx please return to your baking endeavors - the cookie was delicious by the way - and Firebird, get your butt back on the road so I can finish creaming you."

With that said, Marluxia whistled happily to himself and waited for the game to resume, silently resolving to call Larxene as soon as possible.

xXx

_Yuffie and Vincent_

He rolled over in bed and jolted slightly more awake when his body did not come in contact with another smaller one. His hand groped for her for a minute, and then, when it came up empty, he sleepily opened one eye to look for himself. Yuffie's side of the bed was indeed empty. That wasn't too surprising considering it was Christmas morning; what was surprising was that she hadn't jumped on him and screeched in bouncy excitement like a child until he agreed to get up and open presents with her.

"Yuffie?" he croaked, thinking perhaps she was in the bathroom. When she didn't answer, he opened the other eye, the first stirrings of worry beginning to form in his chest. "Yuffie?" he called a little louder.

"Here I am," she replied, pushing open the bedroom door and coming in with a small tray. Vincent released a tight breath of relief as she appeared, not noticing until she had set the tray down that it held two mugs and a small basket of blueberry muffins. "I brought breakfast," she announced.

"I see," he said with a small smile. "Thank you." Slowly, he began to push himself up from the sheets into a sitting position.

"You're welcome," she chirped. Clasping her hands behind her back, she bounced a bit on the balls of her feet and watched him sit up. "Merry Christmas, Vin."

"Merry Christmas, Yuffie."

"I can wait to open most of the presents until after breakfast, but I have one that I want to give to you now."

He lifted an eyebrow at her in curious surprise but nodded his assent. As soon as he had, her smile broadened into something almost devious. Her hands moved, but instead of reaching to extract a box from some hiding place, they lifted to the ties of her robe. Vincent watched, confusion turning into shocked understanding, as the garment fell from her shoulders, revealing a rather small amount of black silk and lace. When his eyes lifted to meet her heavy, meaningful gaze, his normal morning problem instantly became much worse.

"Well," she prompted after a moment in which they simply stared at each other, "don't you want to open it?"

Vincent didn't answer. Instead, he leaned forward, grabbed his fiancée, and dragged her, laughing, back to bed.

xXx

_Riku_

The four of them stood in a line, dressed to the nines, backs straight as steel. In front of them, their father sat in his leather chair, legs crossed, posture relaxed but still intimidating. This was Christmas in their house. This was tradition. And yet it was not one that any other family would ever wish to adopt for themselves. Of this, Riku was certain.

There was no tree. There never had been one, not in all of his sixteen years. After all, what was the need of a tree if there were no presents to place beneath it? No tree, no lights, no fancy dinner, nothing except for this inspection line and one small pile of envelopes to indicate that this day was any different from all the others.

Sephiroth took his time scrutinizing them, letting his sharp gaze linger on each boy in turn. When he had satisfied himself, he leaned forward a bit and declared, "You have all performed adequately this year. I am satisfied."

"Yes, Father," they chorused.

Sephiroth motioned for each of them to come forward in turn, beginning with Loz, the eldest. Each boy received an envelope, as they had done ever since they were old enough to do basic math. Each envelope held a large amount of cash, money with which they were to buy their own presents. Each boy took it without expression, thanking his father politely before returning to his place in line.

When it was Riku's turn, however, Sephiroth picked up a small stack of workbooks in addition to the envelope.

"Riku."

"Yes, Father."

"During the holiday break, you will spend a minimum of two hours a day studying for your standardized college exams."

"Yes, Father." Riku accepted the books, not at all surprised. He had watched Kadaj receive the same instructions the previous year, and Yazoo and Loz before him.

When his youngest son had returned to line, Sephiroth concluded, "I expect the same level of achievement in the coming year."

"Yes, Father."

"Good. You may go."

The boys filed out of their father's study, not breaking rank until they had reached the top of the stairs on the way to their rooms. Only then did they allow themselves to relax, to become human again rather than machine.

Loz approached Riku first, ruffling his hair with a grin. "Good luck with that, 'Ku."

"He'll be fine," Yazoo commented, already working on undoing his tie. "He's smarter than Kadaj after all."

" _What_ did you say?"

"Just go get changed," Loz ordered, grabbing Kadaj before the younger boy could jump on his older brother. "The movie starts in two hours, and I want enough time to lounge about and buy snacks and stuff." With barely any effort, he hauled Kadaj up to his eye-level and stared at him even as the younger male continued to struggle against the grip that held him. "And no popcorn fights this year, 'Daj," he commanded. "We almost got thrown out last year."

"Fine," Kadaj pouted. "Just put me down, you stupid ape."

"Ape am I? That's rich coming from a dirty monkey like you."

"Why you ... Let go! Let me go, I said! I'll kick your sorry ass!"

"Careful, Loz, he bites."

"Believe me, I know. Why do you think I'm still holding on to him?"

"Bastard! _Put me down!_ "

Not waiting to see how the situation ended, Riku slipped into his room and closed the door behind him. Setting the books and money on his desk, he began undoing his own tie so that he could change into something more casual for their family's second tradition. This one involved just the boys and had started only a few years ago. After undergoing inspection and receiving their "allowance" for the year, the four of them would go out to see a movie together, the louder and more violent the better. It was a way to let off steam, a way to spend some of the money they had just received on something fun, and, as Yazoo had put it one year, a way to pretend to be normal. Although really, when the four of them went out together with all that blond hair, good looks, and fancy clothes, the stares and whispers they attracted from every female in sight made it hard to believe in the illusion of normalcy.

Once he had finished changing, Riku moved to his dresser and opened his sock drawer. This was the third tradition and his alone. Every year, he would save a portion of his Christmas money until the end of summer. Once school began, he would buy himself one last present. On the day after Thanksgiving, he would wrap it and place it in his drawer. On Christmas day, he would open it and imagine that it had been gifted to him by his mother, a woman of kindness and love whom he had never met. He could have had a real present if he had wanted, from Kairi or from all the girls who tried to shower him with gifts every year, but he had told his friend years ago not to get him anything and he always refused the presents offered to him in school. It wasn't the gift itself he craved but the feeling that it had been chosen out of something more than duty or simple friendship, that it had been chosen with love only for him.

In spite of this, two gifts waited for him alongside his socks this year. The first, a CD that he had bought for himself, he pulled out and opened quickly, setting it aside with barely a glance and nowhere near the amount of attention he had assumed he would give to it. Instead, he focused that attention on the second gift, a small, shapeless lump wrapped in red paper with smiling Santas all over it. He had refused this gift, many times in fact, but its presenter had insisted with a stubbornness that had taken his breath away. He had had no choice but to accept it, just as he had had no choice but to give his heart to the one who had offered it. To love that one more than he had ever thought possible.

Reverently, Riku lifted the gift from the drawer with trembling fingers and set about removing the tape from the paper with careful precision. The Santas fell away to reveal a small, white stuffed bear with a red hat on, holding an oversized Hershey kiss in its paws. Tucked beneath the bear was a note which Riku pulled out and opened. _Riku_ , it said. _I'm sorry this present is kind of silly and boring, but I don't know you that well yet, and hey, everyone likes bears, right? Besides, something about this little guy's smile made me think of you. Thanks for all the help you've given me and Roxas so far. Even though I haven't known you long, I can tell you're going to be a really great friend. I hope you have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. From, Sora._

Crossing to his desk, Riku retrieved a pair of scissors from his drawer. Carefully, he cut the candy from the bear's grasp, a task made more difficult by his shaking fingers and the threatening of tears in his eyes. Once the kiss had been successfully removed, he put it aside and lifted the bear, still chocolate-scented, to his face and pressed its softness to his cheek. For the first time in his life, it truly felt like Christmas.

"Sora," he whispered, the tears beginning to escape and fall, "thank you so very much."

xXx

_Cloud, Sora, and Roxas_

There weren't as many presents as previous years, but that was to be expected what with the move and the new house. The twins were quite happy with the presents they had received, however, and their father had expressed adequate gratitude for the few that they had given him. In fact, they were just about to move from the 'wild rush of opening gifts' stage to the 'lounging about and avoiding cleaning' stage when Cloud cleared his throat.

"There's one more gift for you two," he announced, tilting his head to the small area between an armchair and the wall.

Sora and Roxas exchanged quick glances before Sora leapt up to retrieve it. He returned, not with a wrapped present, but with a large gift bag stuffed with tissue paper. After Sora placed it on the floor between them, the boys shrugged at each other and dove into the bag simultaneously. Sora emerged with a leash, Roxas with a food bowl. Their eyes widening, they dove in again, this time coming out with a handful of squeak toys, a brush, and a small book on training.

Together, they turned wide blue eyes to Cloud and cried, "Seriously?"

"We'll wait until the new year," he told them, smiling at their obvious joy, "so that everyone else has the chance to dump their unwanted animals at the shelters before we pick one to save, but yes. Seriously."

"All right!"

"Thanks, Dad!"

"You're the best!"

"Yeah!"

"You're welcome," Cloud replied. "Just remember that this is going to be your dog, not mine. I have no intention of cleaning up after it."

"We won't forget!"

"We'll be responsible, we promise."

"Good." Cloud leaned back in his chair and sipped at his coffee while his sons chattered happily about their future pet. It felt strange and more than a little sad to have Christmas without Aerith. She had loved to decorate and had always tried to include as many plants as possible in her plans. Wreaths on all the doors, random poinsettias scattered all over the house, colorful bouquets on most of the tables. Even before they had had the boys, she had been like that. It felt rather strange to be able to walk through the house without wondering if he had somehow stumbled into a greenhouse or nursery instead.

"Dad?"

His musings interrupted, Cloud looked up to find Sora and Roxas standing in front of him. They were both grinning - never a good sign. "Yes?" he asked.

"Well," Sora responded as Roxas plunged a hand into one of his pockets, "we sort of had an extra present for you, too." The blond boy extracted a very small present, about the size of a large matchbox and thrust it at his father.

Cloud raised his eyebrows at them but took the offered gift, putting aside his coffee. A single pull tore the piece of tape keeping the paper in place, and soon he held a very small and non-descript black box in his hand. After one last look at his sons and their twin grins, he lifted the lid. Inside was a single earring, a silver wolf head with a ring clasped in its mouth. Surprised, Cloud tipped it out of the box and into the cupped fingers of his other hand.

"Do you like it?" Sora asked eagerly.

"We saw it in the store and it reminded us of you," Roxas supplied.

"Because of Fenrir, you know."

"Fenrir was the wolf that was destined to kill Odin, right?"

"That's why the wolf head. Plus, it just looks cool."

"And Leon's a lion anyway, so we thought you should have something that would put you on even ground with him."

"Yeah, 'cause you're every bit as fierce and strong as he is."

"So, do you like it?"

Cloud's thumb ran gently over the cool silver, feeling the grooves of the wolf's fur and its proud muzzle. He smiled. "Yeah," he answered his sons. "I like it. A lot." With his eyes still fixed to the earring in his right hand, his left rose to his ear and began to undo the earring that already sat there. A moment later, it sat in his other hand: a gold rose given to him years ago by Aerith. He had put it in his ear the day of her funeral and hadn't removed it since.

Sitting there with an earring in each hand, he suddenly felt as if he was being forced to make a choice, not between two pieces of jewelry, but between two people. The golden ornament signified his past, his wife, the woman who had never been anything but kind, loving, and supportive. The silver signified his possible future, the man he had always desired, a happiness he had thought he would never be able to have. He didn't want to give either of them up, but he only had one pierced ear, only one heart with which to love.

For many heartbeats, Cloud sat in painful hesitation. Finally, the silence broke, not of his own doing, but from the voice of his darker-haired son.

"Sorry, Mom," Sora said solemnly. "Dad's going to move forward now."

"He doesn't want to leave you behind," Roxas continued, "but he doesn't have much of a choice. We know you'd understand and that you, like us, would want him to be happy."

"He's not going to forget you. You know he's not like that."

"But he's not going to be bound to you anymore. He's going to live for himself."

"He's probably going to feel guilty about it, so please forgive him now to help him get over it faster."

"And forgive us for giving him a push. Or two. Or twenty."

"And wish him luck. He's got a date coming up."

"Which is another reason why he should give you up now. I mean, come on, Mom. A flower isn't exactly the most masculine thing in the world."

"Roxas!" Sora hissed to his brother.

The blond twin merely shrugged and held out the empty box in which the wolf had resided. "Ready to say good-bye to your soft, sensitive side and be sexy again, Dad?"

" _Roxas!_ "

Smirking, both at Roxas's words and Sora's horrified reaction, Cloud dropped the rose into the box. "Completely," he answered. As his fingers snapped the clasp off the back of the wolf and lifted the earring to his ear, he couldn't help but thank Heaven yet again that he had been deemed worthy to care for these two amazing boys. Although, perhaps, it was less an issue of worth and more one of need. More and more it seemed, they were the ones who were taking care of him.

"Thank you," he said to them as they smiled at him and his new companion. "Sora, Roxas. For everything. Thank you."

Rather than reply, his boys moved to either side of him and encircled his neck with their arms. He wrapped one arm around each of them and held them close against him, feeling their warmth sink into him down to his soul. Their faces rested against the top of his head, their breaths gently ruffling his hair, and one of them - he honestly wasn't sure which - whispered to him, the words vibrating against his skull and passing through into his calm, peaceful mind.

"Merry Christmas, Dad."


	21. Riku

_His fists throb. The dusty air passes through his lips in short, pained gasps. Tears are slipping from his eyes and falling down his dirty face. But none of that matters. What matters is that he won. Two of them against one of him, and he won._

_Grinning like mad, he spits in the dirt next to one of the writhing bodies at his feet. "That'll teach you to call me a girl," he crows happily, then adds on for emphasis, "You stupids!" A high-pitched moan and some sniffling is his only response._

_Lifting his nose into the air the way Yazoo sometimes does, he turns on his heel and stalks off, away from the playground and towards the abandoned baseball field. The few children who linger on the swings and the monkeybars cower from him with wide eyes as he passes, but he pays them no attention. He can't afford to let on how much their rejection affects him, how much it hurts to be alone. Showing weakness is the first step to destruction._

_As he passes by the merry-go-round, however, the girl who sits alone on it gets off and takes a few steps towards him._

_"Hey," she says._

_Surprised, he stops and glances at her. She looks about his age, but he doesn't recognize her from school. Her big, purple-blue eyes are kind, and she smiles at him as she twirls a bit of auburn hair around one small finger._

_"Wanna play?" she asks._

_For a long minute, he just stares at her, wondering if he heard correctly. Then, after checking to make sure there isn't someone standing behind him, he points to himself and says, "Me?"_

_"Yeah," she replies. "Wanna play with me?"_

_"Aren't you scared of me?" he asks in disbelief._

_"No." She tips her head at him like a little bird, curious. "Are you scary?"_

_His eyes are wide, and his mouth is hanging open stupidly. If Kadaj were here, he would say he looks like a fish and has the brains to match. "I just beat up those boys," he tells the girl, pointing backwards over his shoulder._

_"I know," she replies solemnly. "But they started it. They're the bad guys." She sends him a small shy smile and proclaims, "That makes you the hero. So, wanna play?"_

_Finally, he shuts his mouth and swallows. Something painful and yet wonderful is rising in his thin chest and twisting around his throat. "Yeah," he whispers. "I do."_

_Her smile broadens into a grin so bright that it almost hurts. "Okay!" Her little hand flies up to hover in front of his face. "I'm Kairi. I'm seven."_

_Gently, he takes the little girl's hand in his own and tries desperately not to cry. "Riku," he responds. "I'm eight."_

_Kairi shakes his hand with enthusiasm and tries to curtsey at the same time, obviously attempting what she thinks is grown-up behavior for introductions. "Nice to meet you, Riku," she says. Then, with a yank that nearly pulls him from his feet, she laughs and starts running back to the merry-go-round, pulling him along behind._

_Father once said that it doesn't matter if no one likes him now. Someday they will flock to him, drawn by his beauty and his power. When that happens, he will have the world at his command to do whatever he pleases._

_"Push me, Riku!"_

_"O-okay."_

_Yazoo later said that having the world to command isn't any fun if no one cares what you do with it._

_"Whee! Faster! Faster!"_

_"Okay!"_

_Loz confided that he would gladly give up all of the leeches and kiss-ups that were starting to surround him if just one of them would actually try to be his friend._

_"Waaah! That's too fast!"_

_"Ha ha, make up your mind, Kairi!"_

_Kadaj, fresh from a fight with someone else's blood still on his knuckles, spat that it would never happen, not in a million, trillion years._

_"Okay, stop, stop! Let's switch. I'll push you."_

_"You'll never push fast enough. I can jump on."_

_"No, not faster! Aah! Riku!"_

_"Hold on tight, Kairi!"_

_The merry-go-round spins wildly, and he laughs and laughs like he has never laughed before. Next to him, Kairi laugh-screams and clutches the metal bars with all her young strength. The world flies by in a blur, making them dizzy and high and indescribably happy. And when it finally slows to a stop, he turns to the girl beside him and grins._

_She bops him on the arm with her little fist. "Stupid," she whines. "That was too fast."_

_"Yeah, but it was fun," he laughs._

_When she grins back, he knows without a doubt that Kadaj was wrong and that he is no longer alone._

xXx

"Hey, 'Ku. Phone."

Riku glanced up from his college prep workbooks to find Loz standing in the doorway with the portable in his hand. "It's Kairi," his brother added when he saw that he had the younger boy's attention.

Pushing back from his desk, Riku held out his hand in silent invitation and waited for Loz to cross the room to him. "Thanks," he said as he took the phone.

"Not a problem." Loz ruffled Riku's hair a bit with one of his large hands and glanced briefly at the books on his desk. "If you need help with any of that, feel free to ask me or Yazoo, okay?"

"Sure thing."

His brother gave him a final pat on the shoulder, then left him to his phone call in privacy.

"Hey, Kai," Riku said into the receiver, pushing aside his books and laying his elbow on the surface of the desk.

"Hey," his best friend replied. "What's up?"

At the sound of her voice, Riku sighed and relaxed a little further in his chair. He was feeling burned out from all the work he had been doing, and it felt nice to talk to her. Kairi always managed to cheer him up and make him smile. "Not much," he replied to her question. "Studying for my standardizeds."

"Over Christmas break?" she asked, properly scandalized.

"Yeah," he admitted with another sigh. "You know my Dad. He's a slave driver." The fingers of his free hand began to doodle on a spare sheet of paper with the pencil they held.

"I know," she sighed with him in sympathy. "That sucks, Ri."

"Tell me about it."

"And I thought my vacation was terrible because Dad made me clean out my closet."

"You?" he asked in disbelief. "Cleaned your closet?" A little evil grin crept into his lips as he imagined the frown that would be taking over her pretty face at his teasing.

"Shut up!" she ordered, proving him right with the irritation in her voice. "It wasn't that bad."

"Kairi, the last time I opened your closet, I got buried in a sweater avalanche."

"That was just the one time!"

"Damn straight it was one time. After that, I'm never going near your closet again." As she sputtered a bit and he laughed, his drifting gaze fell on the paper underneath his hand. With a blink of surprise, he realized that his fingers had stopped drawing and written out letters instead, the same four letters over and over. S - o - r - a.

_God, I've got it bad_ , Riku thought to himself while Kairi launched into a defense of her cleaning abilities. _I can't stop thinking about him. I can't wait to see him again. I want to hold him, kiss him. I want to make him mine._

His face flushed with warmth and his heartbeat sped up as the image of Sora entered his mind. Tomorrow, he would again get to see those clear blue eyes and that bright smile. Tomorrow, he would hear that cheerful voice and maybe, just maybe, if he got up enough courage, kiss those soft-looking lips. Because tomorrow, he and Sora had a date to the movies.

Riku was terrified that he was going to die of a heart attack from the nerves before he even got there.

"Anyway," Kairi said in his ear, "I didn't call to argue with you about my closet. I wanted to see what you're doing tomorrow. If you want to come over and hang out."

The phone nearly fell from Riku's grip as he stiffened in horror. "T-tomorrow?" he stammered.

"Yeah," Kairi replied, not noticing the sudden change in his tone. "We could watch movies or play some games or whatever. Just something to break up the boredom and have some fun. It sounds like we both need it."

Riku's mouth was dry, his heart beating wildly with fear in his chest. "I … I'm sorry, Kai," he managed to say without sounding too strange. "I already have plans for tomorrow."

"You do?" she asked. "What?"

"Oh, just … you know … plans." As soon as the words left his mouth, he grimaced painfully. He knew from experience exactly how Kairi would interpret that statement, and for once, her conclusion would be wrong.

"Riku," Kairi said, and sure enough, her voice sounded disapproving. "Are you going to _another_ party?"

"What's wrong with parties?" he asked, effectively avoiding the question while still implying its answer.

"Normally, nothing," his best friend replied with rising anger. "But the parties you go to always involve too much alcohol and too many people sneaking off into separate rooms to have sex. And you know the only reason those girls invite you is because you're willing to stud them. You're too good for that, Ri! When are you going to believe me when I say that you're a fantastic guy and you deserve better? You don't have to do this!"

Subdued, Riku hung his head and murmured, "I'm sorry, Kairi." And unlike all the other times he had apologized to her for this, he actually was.

He had heard this same speech from Kairi so many times. Ever since she had learned that he was engaging in casual sex with anyone who asked, she had tried everything she could think of to get him to stop. Lectures, compliments, tears, offers of help and support. He had politely listened to every word but had not allowed a single one to touch him. She didn't understand. She didn't understand how those were the only moments in which he could forget about himself. In which he could lose himself and pretend, if only for just a moment, that the girl underneath him loved him for who he was. It never lasted, but he didn't expect it to. He knew the girl would always turn out to have wanted him for his looks or his body, or worse, wanted him so that she could fix him and be his savior. But still, for that brief moment in time, he could ignore the pain from his scars that ran so deep, far too deep for Kairi to understand them. He knew that she wouldn't understand, that she _couldn't_ understand, and so he had never even bothered to explain it to her.

And yet, that had all changed. He hadn't actually been to a party since October. Not since he had seen Sora for the first time. Sora had touched him so deeply and completely that something new had been born within Riku's heart, something that felt oddly like hope. With the memory of Sora's purity inside him, Riku knew he would never be able to have sex with someone else; it would feel like a betrayal, disgusting and fundamentally wrong. Therefore, he had been declining all invitations, both for parties and for individual get-togethers. So far, he hadn't missed them.

Riku's heart ached with the desire to tell Kairi all of his and the guilt of knowing that he wouldn't. For now, he would have to let her continue to be mad at him.

"Well, whatever," Kairi sighed in his ear in response to his apology. "If you get some free time before school starts again and you want to spend it with someone who's interested in seeing _you_ instead of your dick, give me a call."

Riku winced but managed to reply, "Okay, I will. Thanks, Kai."

"Whatever," she said again. Then, apparently deciding that she had been angry at him for long enough, she asked, "So, apart from the studying, how has your vacation been?"

Relaxing, Riku allowed himself to be drawn into a casual conversation with his best friend. His tension and worry disappeared as he fell easily into their regular routines. For the better part of thirty minutes, the two chatted and joked and laughed with each other until Kairi declared that she had to hang up. Just before she said goodbye, she tried one more time to convince Riku to forget his plans and hang out with her instead. He turned her down as gently and vaguely as possible.

"I'm sorry, Kairi," he whispered to the dead receiver once he had closed the connection. "Someday I'll tell you everything, I promise, but now …"

Now he wanted to keep Sora to himself. It wasn't that he didn't trust Kairi, but this was far too important to him to bring in any more risks. It was bad enough that his brothers knew. No one else could know a thing, not even his dearest friend in the world. He had to woo and win Sora himself, without his past and all the baggage it carried. He had to do it without the masks, without the defenses he always used, just Riku himself and all that he held inside. If anyone else were present in the equation, he'd never summon up the courage to go through with it.

_I'm sorry, Kairi._

xXx

Sora, to Riku's eyes, was sunlight and warmth and music and joy. Sora was laughter and hope and happiness. Sora was everything that made the world wonderful.

Sora's father, however, was scary as all Hell.

"I want him back by ten, you understand? Without a single visible mark on him."

"Yes, sir," Riku replied meekly. He couldn't remember the last time that someone, other than his own father, had intimidated him this badly. His knees were damn near shaking!

They stood in the foyer of the Strifes' new home, just inside the door. Riku hadn't even been allowed to take off his coat. He had simply walked in and immediately been attacked by the disapproving protectiveness of the older blond. Sora stood only a few feet away but he was completely unable to rescue his date from his father's clutches, and Roxas, hanging out in the middle of the stairs, looked as if he had no desire to help at all.

"I expect to hear that you behaved like a perfect gentleman," Cloud continued, letting his gaze bore relentlessly into the younger male in front of him. "If I hear otherwise, I will be extremely upset."

"Yes, sir."

"Dad! Will you knock it off?" Sora cried, obviously very unhappy that his date was getting the traditional "hurt my daughter and I kill you" speech. "I'm not some weak little girl. I can take care of myself."

Cloud sent his son a quick look to silence him, then leaned in close to Riku so that only the other blond could hear. "Leon told me about you," he said lowly, blue eyes fixing on green with crushing intensity, "and I'm trusting you anyway. Don't make me regret my decision."

Riku swore he was going to faint. If Sora somehow found out about Riku's reputation … "I won't, sir," he whispered. "I swear I won't."

"Good." Cloud dissected him with his eyes for a moment more, and then, apparently satisfied, took a step back and turned away. "Okay, Sora. He's all yours."

"Yeah," Sora grumbled, coming forward and taking Riku by the elbow, "now that he's too freaked out to drive. Thanks a lot, Dad."

At the feel of Sora's hand on his elbow and the warmth of the other boy's body at his side, Riku recovered enough to give his date a small smile. "I'll be fine," he reassured him.

Those beautiful blue eyes examined him for a minute, looking for any lasting damage to Riku's psyche from Cloud's onslaught. Eventually satisfied that there was none, Sora's face broke out into a dazzling smile that very nearly stopped Riku's heart from beating. "Okay," he said. "Let's go then."

"Sorry about my dad," he apologized as they walked down the driveway towards the sleek black car parked on the street. "He can be a bit overprotective. This is the first date either Roxas or I have been on, so he's kind of freaking out right now."

"Really?" Riku asked, automatically crossing to the passenger side and opening the door for the other boy. "You've never been on a date before?"

"Nope," Sora answered with slightly forced brightness. "I'm a dork and a loser!" Riku started to protest, but Sora cut him off with a chuckle. "Wow, I'm getting the royal treatment tonight," he commented, gesturing towards the open door.

Riku's hands flew from the metal and shoved themselves in his pockets instead. "Well, you know," he mumbled, embarrassed. "I wanted to be polite." Suppressing the urge to smack himself, he shuffled off to his side of the car while Sora slid into his seat and slammed the passenger door shut.

"So, is this actually your car?" Sora asked as Riku climbed into the driver's seat and shut his door.

"No," Riku answered. He started the engine and began pulling away from the house. "It's Yazoo's, but he's letting me borrow it while he's home from college. Kadaj and I have one that we share, but Yaz said I could use this one when I needed it. That way Daj and I don't have to fight over who gets the other one."

"Um …" Sora's face was scrunched up in concentration as he rattled off, "Yazoo's your second brother, right? Nineteen and a sophomore in college. Loz is the eldest, twenty, a junior. And Kadaj is a senior at Jefferson." He glanced over at Riku with a mixed expression of pride and anxiety. "Is all of that right?"

"Yes," Riku replied with a wide smile. "Very good." Sora's answering grin made him laugh. "I'm surprised you remembered all that. I know I only mentioned it once."

Strangely, Sora flushed a little as he admitted, "Well, my memory can be pretty good if I want it to be. And you're really interesting so I can't help but listen when you talk about stuff."

Now it was Riku's turn to flush a little. "I'm not that interesting," he protested in a mumble. "I mean, no more so than others. You're just as interesting as I am."

The brunet next to him scoffed and turned to look out the window. "No, I'm not," he replied in a suddenly dull tone. "I'm goofy-looking and clumsy and shy. Up until I was twelve, I didn't have any friends other than Roxas, and we didn't have any stability to speak of. It's only been recently that I've been living what people consider to be a normal life, and I'm still way behind on normal teenage experiences. I'm really terribly boring."

"That's not true!" Riku cried, slamming the brakes for a red light with more force than was needed. He couldn't believe that Sora felt that way about himself, and suddenly words were pouring from his mouth without thought. "It's not who you know or what you've done that makes you interesting," he insisted. "It's you. The things you enjoy and the way you look at the world. I think you're extremely interesting and a lot of fun. I really like being with you, Sora. And you are _not_ goofy-looking! You're beautiful and adorable and I -"

He stopped abruptly, brain finally catching up to his mouth. Horrified at himself, Riku glanced quickly over at the other boy. Sora was staring at him, blue eyes wide in shock and disbelief. Instantly, Riku focused his gaze on the intersection in front of him and bit down on his traitorous tongue. One hand darted out and turned on the radio in a futile attempt at distraction.

Why the _hell_ had he said all that? Yes, they were on a date, and yes, he knew that Sora was at least slightly attracted to him, but that didn't give Riku the go ahead to start gushing at the other boy like some lovestruck swain complete with guitar and balcony. Sora had looked at him like he was nuts! Why didn't he just confess his undying devotion now and get the humiliation over with? Damn it, damn it, _damn it!_ He had to calm down and get better control of himself or he was going to scare Sora away. He couldn't forget that, even if he had been desperate in love for two months, this was still just their first date. They weren't even officially a couple yet. _Slow down, you moron!_

The light in front of him turned green. Riku's face stayed bright red.

Sora didn't say anything else the entire way to the theater, and Riku knew he had already ruined everything. Feeling dejected, stupid, and ready to crawl into a hole somewhere and die, he pulled into a parking space and switched off the car. He didn't move to exit the car right away, however, choosing instead to sit in the silence for a few moments. Sora didn't move either, not even to unbuckle his seatbelt.

"Sora," Riku finally forced out, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so … I don't know … forward, I guess. If you want to call this off and just go back home, I'll understand."

Finally, the brunet boy turned his head from where he had been gazing out the window. Riku expected that open face to be filled with anger or disgust, but instead Sora looked at him with confusion. Then, realization slowly spread across his expression, followed by a little smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "I'm not mad," he said, instantly releasing all the tension in the vehicle and allowing the older boy to breathe again.

"You're not?"

"No. And I don't want to go home." He blushed a little, a gentle color that rose up his cheeks to the bridge of his nose. "I was just surprised. No one's ever called me beautiful before." His eyes lowered, and the blush deepened. In a quiet voice, he added, "I'm glad you were the first."

Riku's eyes widened, and his own blush returned full force. Preoccupied with his burning face, he almost missed the small laugh that Sora released upon seeing his reaction.

Straightening up and quickly losing his embarrassment, Sora unbuckled his seatbelt and proclaimed, "My Dad said you were to behave like a gentleman, yes? So get over here and open my door for me."

For a moment, Riku just blinked at him. Then, his own embarrassment finally melted into joyous excitement, and he laughed. "At once, my lady!" he replied, undoing his own seatbelt and opening his door. When Sora blew a raspberry at him, he just laughed harder.

The atmosphere remained light as the two boys bought their tickets and their snacks and found their seats. Sora wanted to sit all the way in the back, and Riku had no reason to object. Once they were settled, however, with their drinks on either side and their shared bucket of popcorn between them, the older boy's nerves began to act up again. Sora was flirting again, sending little looks and smiles his way in the middle of their joking conversation, but instead of bolstering Riku's confidence, it only served to make him even more shy.

_What is_ **_wrong_ ** _with me?_ he thought as the brunet's fingers brushed his own while reaching for popcorn, causing him to pull back as if burned. _Why am I so goddammed_ **_scared_** _? I can flirt with the best of them. I can turn any girl in existence into a panting, quivering heap. I'm an_ **_expert_ ** _at this! So what the fuck is my problem?_

Yet even as the thoughts crossed his mind, he knew his answer. The problem was that this wasn't a random seduction to pass the time. This was real. This mattered. And he was terrified beyond words that he was somehow going to screw it up. In the car, he had honestly thought that he had already destroyed all of his chances with the other boy, and those horrible feelings continued to linger, refusing to let go. It didn't matter how many beautiful smiles Sora sent him; he still couldn't find a shred of his normal confidence under the weight of his anxiety.

By the time the lights went down and the previews started, Riku had stopped eating the popcorn altogether and had twisted his hands in his lap into something resembling a pretzel. Sora stopped his chatter to watch the screen, but his eyes kept flicking in Riku's direction, trying to catch his gaze. Riku didn't even bother to raise his eyes, focusing instead on the seat in front of him in a desperate attempt to force himself into something close to normal.

_Okay, let's look at the facts: Sora likes me. I know this because - one, he said yes to this date knowing in advance that it was a date and not just going to the movies as friends; two, he's been flirting with me off and on ever since I took him and Roxas out shopping; three, on the day I helped them move in and we ended up falling on each other, he very nearly kissed me and then asked for my number afterwards; four … um, no four but three is more than enough. So, Sora likes me. And I like him. I really,_ **_really_ ** _like him. So there should be no problem with me reaching over and taking his hand. No problem at all. So go ahead, Riku. Do it. He's not going to reject you; he likes you. So do it. … Okay, not doing it. Well, do something else then. Ask him to be your boyfriend properly. After all, he said yes to a date. Why wouldn't he say yes to that? Because this date is sucking, that's why._ **_God_** _, I'm such a fuck-up. Kairi was totally wrong. I'm worthless. Completely worthless. I can't do anything right. I -_

A warm hand covered his, and Riku's brain froze solid. Slowly, very slowly, his eyes lowered to his lap. Yes, there were three hands there instead of the normal two. His gaze traveled carefully up the arm that didn't belong to him, following it as it led to the side and across the armrest that separated him from the seat next to him. The popcorn bucket was gone; Sora must have moved it away. His eyes slid further up. There was the elbow that belonged to the arm, there was the shoulder, there the neck, and there -

Sora's beautiful blue eyes, their color dimmed and distorted from the flickering lights of the movie screen, gazed smilingly into his. "You don't have to be so nervous," he whispered beneath the music and sound effects from the speakers. "I like you, Riku. I like you a lot."

Riku swallowed. It was much harder to do than it should have been. "I like you, too, Sora," he somehow managed to reply. "A lot."

In spite of how stupid that had sounded, Sora's smile deepened. His warm hand carefully pried Riku's hands apart and, when it had succeeded, took one and laced their fingers together. The heat from his hand shot up Riku's arm and into his chest, instantly melting his insides into warm mush. Feeling more like himself than he had in hours, he smiled as well and leaned a little bit towards the boy who had so captured his heart.

"Would you … ?" he whispered, still hesitating a little in spite of everything. "Would you be … my boyfriend?"

"Of course," Sora replied.

Riku's chest hurt. His heart was swelling to bursting with happiness. With a confidence he hadn't felt all day, he lifted his free hand and gently ran the tips of his fingers along Sora's cheek to his chin. Those amazing eyes closed, a soft sigh escaping from those perfect lips. Sora's chin tilted slightly upwards, a silent invitation. Riku held his breath. He was still nervous - there were still _so_ many ways he could destroy this - but the fluttering in his stomach signified something far different than fear, and it was egging him forward, inch by encouraging inch.

Just before their lips met, Riku remembered Cloud's warnings and wondered if he'd get in trouble for this. But then he was kissing Sora, and nothing else mattered. The other boy's lips were just as soft as Riku had imagined, and they tasted of butter and salt from the popcorn. He pressed against them gently, not wanting to move too fast by initiating anything more, but Sora surprised him by opening his mouth without provocation and playfully licking Riku's lower lip. Riku's shock lasted only a second; then he was delving into Sora's mouth without restraint, the hand that had touched his face now in his soft brown hair. A moment later, they broke apart, but only so that Riku could shove up the armrest and turn their individual seats into one. They were back together seconds later, Riku's arms around Sora's waist and Sora's around Riku's neck. Eventually, when their necks and backs began to hurt, Sora climbed into Riku's lap so that they could be more comfortable.

They missed the entire movie. Riku hadn't really wanted to see it anyway.


	22. Demyx and Zexion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for Demyx's song belongs to FF.net user Diamond Raider.

_Early December:_

Zexion stood by his window and gazed out at the softly falling snow. The tiny flakes would not last the night and most of them were destined to die the moment they touched the ground, but still, watching them brought a sort of peace to Zexion's troubled being.

His right hand was warm, and it tingled a bit as if suffering from poor circulation. He couldn't understand it, not at all, not a bit. All he had done was shake Demyx's hand. A simple handshake should not have produced a reaction like this. It was actually beginning to frighten him, the strange effects that Demyx had on his body and on his mind. Yet, when he considered that the best course of action perhaps would be to cut off all contact with the blond, he felt even more frightened. Imagining a world without Demyx, a world without those smiles and that ever-present sunshine, it terrified him to no end.

And the fact that it did terrify him terrified him even more.

xXx

**Demyx -**

**Thank you. I'm glad to know that you still consider me your friend even though I'm not particularly exciting. Thank you also for your kind words regarding my inappropriate letter. I am very glad that it did not upset you, although in spite of your assurances to the contrary, I still plan to do my best and not repeat the offense.**

**What decision, if any, did you make regarding your original compositions? Did you include one in your latest performance?**

**Signed, Your Friend the (not as) Wise (as you think)**

xXx

_Dear Mr. Modest,_

_I did in fact perform one of my own songs last time! And guess what? Everyone loved it! It felt so wonderful hearing all the applause. I mean, I hear applause all the time since I'm sort of popular at Luxord's bar, but for the first time, it really felt like the clapping was for me, you know? Because it was something that I had created. It felt really wonderful, like nothing I had felt before. And it's all thanks to you. Oh, I know I'm the one who wrote the song and I know I would never be up performing at all if not for Axel and Luxord, but you're the one who really encouraged me to try singing my own things._

_So, does that make you MY muse? Ha, wouldn't that be funny to be each other's muses? I guess that would make you Euterpe since you inspire me to song, and I would be - I don't know - Clio? Since photos capture history? Guess the Greeks didn't have a muse of photography, did they? Of course, that would make us both girls instead of just you. We really need to find a name for you that's a guy's name. I suppose I could always just call you Bob._

_I'm so excited that it's almost Christmas! You need to come by the store if you haven't lately. That big tree in the window? I did it. All by myself, I might add. Leon fought me about it, but I fought right on back and I won. Unfortunately, part of the deal we made is that I get to take it all down by myself after the holiday is over, but for right now, I'm just enjoying how pretty and festive it looks._

_Speaking of Christmas, I know exactly what I'm going to get you. I just need to wrap it and leave it in the box for you. Oh, by the way, were you going to get a present for me? You don't have to, but I was just wondering. 'Cause, you know, I love getting presents. I mean, who doesn't? Right?_

_Signed, Demyx_

xXx

**Demyx -**

**Congratulations on your recent success! I am very happy to hear that your song was received well. Perhaps this will encourage you to share more of your own music and in multiple locations. I am unfamiliar as to how many of your own pieces you currently have. Are there very many?**

**I am perfectly content to be called whatever you wish, regardless of the original owner's gender. However, if I am to be Euterpe, then you must be Calliope, the greatest Muse to whom all others, myself included, bow their heads in reverence. I am afraid I cannot accept anything less.**

**I have in fact recently been by the store where you work, and I have seen the tree of which you speak. It is quite large. I am surprised you were able to fit the entire thing in that small window. However, the effect is quite festive, as you said, and brought a smile to my face when I observed it. I wish I could have seen you decorating it. I am sure the joy on your face would have been something that I carried with me for days afterward.**

**Your Christmas gift is included with this message. I hope you like it.**

**Signed, Bob**

xXx

_Dear King of Compliments,_

_I have GOT to stop reading your letters at work! I swear, I'm blushing like a stupid schoolgirl right now. Yuffie is sniggering at me. I don't know if I can, though, because I tend to get these on my lunch break and I love hearing from you so much that I just can't wait until I'm off of work to read them._

_Anyway, you can knock of the worshipping or whatever it is you're doing. I'm not worth it, really. I'm just an ordinary guy. Maybe a little friendlier than most, but still, very ordinary. I don't deserve your reverence, and I don't really want it either. Just your friendship. If anything I should be worshipping you since you're obviously so much smarter than I am. So yeah, no worshipping._

_Anyway, to answer your question, I only have a handful of songs of my own that are polished enough to perform. I have a whole notebook of lyrics, but most of them don't have melodies yet. I think if I sang all of the ones that are ready, I could do maybe fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. Not really enough for a concert. But I'll get there someday. The one I wrote about you only needs a little more tweaking before it's ready so that'll be one more!_

_You know, that is EXACTLY what Leon said about the tree, that it wouldn't fit in the window. But I, the amazing Demyx, with my mad decorating skillz made the thing fit! Mua ha ha! I have to admit, though, that I'm a little worried about how I'm going to get it out of there now that it's in. Maybe, since you missed watching me put it up, you could come help take it down? Just kidding. I know you don't want me to meet you in person, although I still don't really understand why. Out of curiosity, do you think there will ever be a time when you will be comfortable meeting me? I'd really love to meet you, talk to you face to face, that kind of thing._

_Your present didn't fit in the P.O. box, so I gave it to the lady behind the desk. She said she'd make sure you got it. DON'T FORGET TO PICK IT UP!_

_Signed, Demyx_

xXx

_Late December:_

Demyx stood at his post behind the counter, lyrics' folder open in front of him and pencil in hand. This one line just wasn't quite right, and it was driving him crazy. The perfect words were right there on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't seem to grasp them. In a fit of frustration, he opened his mouth, grabbed his tongue with his free hand, and stared down at it cross-eyed as if trying to see if they were actually written there.

The jangling of the bells over the door stopped his attempt at blinding himself. Closing his folder with a sigh, Demyx lifted his head to see who had entered, plastering on an automatic smile as he did so. The fake smile immediately brightened into a real grin when he saw a single blue eye staring at him calmly from a few feet away.

"Zexion!" he greeted. "How can I help you? Here for Professor Vexen again?"

A little smile flickered over the assistant's face as he approached. Demyx had noticed that Zexion always seemed pleasantly surprised when the blond remembered his name, as if he expected it to be easily forgotten.

"No," he replied to Demyx's question in his customary flat tone. "I am here today for myself."

"Really?" Demyx asked before he could stop himself. His impression of the graduate student had been that Zexion lived and breathed for Professor Vexen. The idea that the young man had a life of his own was unexpected. Covering his shock quickly, Demyx smiled and asked, "What were you looking for?"

Zexion's gaze seemed to be permanently fixed on a spot somewhere over Demyx's right shoulder. "I was wondering," he replied, "if Mr. Leonhart had a copy of C.L. Ansem's latest publication, _Encoding the Human Heart_."

"Um …" Demyx did a quick mental scan of their inventory as he knew it and came up empty. "I'm not sure we do," he admitted, "but if it's here, it'll be in this section over here." A few steps brought him out in front of the counter, and a few more sent him striding over to a section of tall bookcases, all with thick books on obscure subjects that Demyx was sure he would never be able to understand. His fingers ran over a few spines, but none of them belonged to the requested book.

"No, I'm sorry," he said to Zexion who had followed along after him like a shadow. "We have _Digital Heart Analysis_ and _Workings of the Heart within a Virtual Reality_ , but not _Encoding the Human Heart_. Are you interested in either of those?"

"No, I've read those already," the student answered. Demyx wasn't sure, but he thought he caught the slightest bit of disappointment in that quiet voice.

"Well, I'm sure we can order the other one for you," the blond assured him. "It's probably just so new that we don't have it in stock yet." When Zexion only shrugged, he ran his eyes over the titles again. "I wish I could suggest another author to you," he said, "but I don't know this section very well. The only one I've read is this one." He pulled a significantly smaller book off of the shelf and handed it to the assistant.

" _The Key to the Heart_ ," Zexion read. "Michael Mus." That single blue eye lifted and regarded Demyx with interest. "I've never heard of this one. Is it any good?"

"Well," Demyx admitted, feeling a blush rising in his face, "I thought it was pretty good, but I don't know if someone as smart as you would like it. It's written rather simplistically, for the ordinary reader, you know. You'd probably find it boring." He held out his hand to take it back.

Zexion, however, made no move to return it. He flipped it over and read the back blurb, then opened the cover and read the first page. Finally, he lifted his eye to Demyx and asked in confirmation, "You liked it?"

Something soft in that normally hard gaze made Demyx pause and stutter. "Um … well … yeah," he managed to get out.

"Then I will take it." He placed the book in Demyx's outstretched hand with a nod and added, "I will also order the Ansem volume and pay for both today."

"Oh … okay!" Demyx replied, breaking out into a grin. He half-skipped back to the register and began the paperwork for the order. Zexion watched him from the other side of the counter, his face as blank and expressionless as ever.

As his fingers went through the motions of his job, Demyx's mind began to wonder about the silent figure in front of him. Zexion always seemed so clinical, so very cold, and yet there were moments - those shy smiles and just now when their eyes met over the book - when Demyx felt as if the other man truly wanted to connect with someone else but simply did not know how to do it. It felt like something lonely to Demyx, something lost, and his warm heart immediately responded to that feeling. He found himself wanting to help Zexion and wondering how he could.

"Here you go," he said, handing over the bag which held the book, the order confirmation, and the receipt.

"Thank you," Zexion said, taking it. Demyx noticed that the other man was careful not to let their fingers touch.

"You're welcome. Have a nice day," he rattled off automatically, still wondering what he could do to take away the emptiness in Zexion's expression. Out of nowhere, an idea hit him, and he lunged across the counter to grab the other man's sleeve before he could move too far away. "Hey, Zexion!"

The assistant's head swiveled around, his visible eye wide in shock. He stared at Demyx's hand on his arm, too stunned to answer.

"Sorry," Demyx half-laughed, uncurling his fingers from the fabric of Zexion's sleeve and returning to the proper side of the counter. He waited for that wide eye to lift to his face before continuing, "I wanted to know, are you doing anything for New Year's?"

"New Year's?" Zexion echoed, obviously confused.

"Yeah, you know. New Year's Eve. Are you hanging out with your friends? Going to any parties?"

Zexion's expression clearly stated that he thought Demyx was stark raving mad, but the blond bravely smiled his way through the silence. "No," the student eventually answered. "I have no such plans."

"Then you should go to The Royal Flush!" Demyx suggested brightly as if no tension were present at all. "My friend Luxord owns the bar, and he's throwing this big party. Bring as many friends as you want. That Lexaeus guy and anyone else. It'll be a lot of fun!"

Zexion's feet were slowly sliding his body away from Demyx and towards the door. "I … I'll … think about it," he half-whispered.

"Okay!" Demyx smiled one last time. "See you there!" And to allow Zexion a graceful retreat, he turned around and pretended to check on the coffee carafes. Barely a second later, the bells announced that the other man had indeed escaped. Demyx turned around just in time to see the small figure cross the street and disappear around the corner.

"See you there," he repeated to himself with a sigh. "I hope."

xXx

**Demyx -**

**Thank you very much for the Christmas present. I accept your challenge.**

**Signed, your grateful friend**

xXx

_Dear Euterpe,_

_Ugh. Haven't I said I hate it when you only send me a sentence or two? I really look forward to your letters, dammit, and when they're so short it's a real let down. So PLEASE write more next time._

_At any rate, you're welcome for the present. Thank you for the one you gave me. I have a ton of CDs, but my classical music selection is pretty lacking. I have to admit that when I opened it and saw that it was a bunch of piano concertos, I wasn't that excited. But then I listened to it. I never realized how passionate Rachmaninoff was! It totally blew me away. Thanks so much!_

_Leon has been bugging me about taking down the tree. I'm really not looking forward to it. Not so much the taking things down and the putting things away. No, it's the prying the tree out of the window that I'm worried about. Maybe I should have gotten the three-footer instead._

_So, okay, I've been thinking about something for a couple of days now, and I don't know if you're the best person to talk about it with, but if you don't want to comment you can always ignore this part or something. See, I've made a new … acquaintance. Friend isn't the right word since I don't know him well enough yet. He's a graduate student and he comes to the store a lot for his professor. For the sake of confidentiality, I shall call him … Bob. No, I called you that. I shall call him … George._

_Anyway, George is really shy. Like, won't make eye contact shy. But I can't help but want to get to know him better. It's something in his expression, something sad and lonely. It's hard though because he's so skittish, and you know me, I'm just a tad over-exuberant. The reason why I'm telling you is, well, you're shy, too. Considering the whole don't even want me to SEE you thing. So, I was wondering if you had any advice. What is it that shy people are looking for in other people? Do they want a friend who's quiet like they are or do they want someone to grab them and drag them into social stuff? Do they want to be chased when they run away or do they want to be left to themselves? I really don't know this kind of stuff for shy people. Axel and Luxord are just as outgoing as me, and Leon is more stoic than shy. So, any advice for me?_

_I'm going to be at The Royal Flush for New Year's Eve, and Luxord has been threatening to make me sing at least a little. I don't suppose you'd want to show up? Maybe have some fun? Maybe MEET ME? ;) Kidding._

_Signed, Demyx_

xXx

**Demyx -**

**I apologize. I forgot how much you dislike short notes. I will endeavor to do better from now on.**

**I am glad that you liked your present and sorry to hear of your expected troubles with the tree. I wish I could offer you some advice in regards to it, but unfortunately, I have none.**

**Thank you for your invitation for New Year's Eve, but I am afraid I must decline. Not being a person who enjoys celebrations, I have never seen the point in staying up until midnight simply because the calendar year has incremented by one. I certainly hope that you will have a good time, but as for myself, I will be in bed and asleep.**

**I must admit, I am severely tempted to end this letter now, but I fear that you would become angry at me again, both for sending you a letter of inadequate length and for ignoring a direct question. I am, however, extremely hesitant to give you any advice on "George". To a large degree, this is because I do not consider myself to be shy. I prefer the description "socially apathetic". Social interactions and people as a whole do not interest me. If you recall, you are the first and only person ever to stir within me any desire for prolonged contact. As such, I cannot believe that I am qualified to offer advice of any kind.**

**If you insist, however, my advice concerning "George" is this: leave him be. You say you see something lonely in his expression, but are you certain you aren't just projecting your own emotions onto him? You, Demyx, are so bright, vibrant, and alive that all others are pale and dull in comparison. Perhaps "George" is simply reserved and you interpreted that quietness as sadness. I doubt he is in as desperate need of a friend as you believe he is.**

**Signed, Echo**

xXx

_Dear friend of my heart,_

_I upset you, didn't I? Because you signed your name as Echo again. Like you want to pull away again and go back to hiding in the shadows and watching me from afar. Please don't. I would miss you so much if you did._

_I'm still kind of confused as to how I upset you as much as I obviously did. I mean, yeah, I get that it was because of the questions I asked, but I'm not sure what was so wrong about them. I guess I should just let it go. We're obviously very different, you and I, in how we look at things and how we react to things. I want to understand you, but if you don't want to explain things to me, then there isn't much I can do. I guess._

_But, see, the thing is I can't just let George go. I know you said I should, and I know you think I'm seeing things that aren't there, but I can't listen to you and I can't take your advice because I know I'm not wrong. His eyes, Echo. You didn't see his eyes the way I did. I've been around Leon and Vincent long enough to realize that, with a bit of work, a person can fix his face so that nothing that he's feeling shows through on it. A person can turn his face to stone or ice and never let anyone know what's going on inside. But it's much harder to do the same with your eyes. If there's going to be a crack anywhere, it'll be there. I've seen it in Leon, I've seen it in Vincent, and I saw it in George. I don't know why my heart is reaching out to George so badly, but it is. I saw his mask crack just enough, and through that little gap, I saw the need to connect with someone else. I want to be the one to fulfill that need. I have absolutely no idea why, but I do and so I will._

_Sorry for asking you for advice you were obviously unwilling to give. I guess I'll ask Leon next. I already asked Axel, but he wasn't any help._

_I should probably write about something else here. Something to lighten the mood. Something that you can actually respond to. But I'm tired. I don't want to. If you don't want to write back after this, that's fine. I'll write you again tomorrow or the next day when I have something else to talk about._

_Signed, Demyx_

xXx

_New Year's Eve_ :

Zexion had been to The Royal Flush many times before - to watch Demyx perform and to take pictures of him in secret - but never before had he seen it this packed. Even from across the street, he could hear the chattering of voices and smell the mixed concoction of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, Zexion once again questioned himself as to why he was there, standing by a lamppost, clutching his coat to his thin frame, waiting.

However, before he could convince himself to turn around and go back home to a nice cup of tea and his warm bed, a familiar booming voice caught his attention.

"Hey, Zex!"

At the sight of the two approaching him, Zexion slapped on a half smile, less for Lexaeus than for the willowy woman next to him.

"Sorry we're late," his friend immediately apologized. "You haven't been waiting long, have you?"

"Ten minutes," Zexion replied with a shrug. "Perhaps fewer. Certainly not long enough to risk frostbite." He turned his attention to the woman and said, "Ms. Trepe, I presume."

"Indeed," she answered with a smile. Holding out a gloved hand, she continued, "Quistis Trepe. Nice to meet you, Zexion. I've heard a lot about you."

Smiling as best he could considering the cold and the noise from the bar, Zexion took the offered hand and shook it. "I've heard quite a bit about you as well," he said with a sidelong glance at Lexaeus. Predictably, the big man reddened just a bit.

"Should we go in?" he suggested, offering Quistis his arm.

"Must we?" Zexion returned, wrinkling his nose again. "It's loud enough out here. I hate to think what it will be like once we're inside."

"You're the one who suggested we come," Lexaeus reminded him, much to Zexion's displeasure.

"Oh, very well then. Lead the way."

The three crossed the street and, after managing to convince the two men controlling the door that Zexion's ID was real and he was in fact twenty-one, made their way into The Royal Flush. As expected, the noise level and the smells intensified dramatically, and, while no one was actually touching him, the density of people surrounding him made Zexion feel unpleasantly claustrophobic. The most disturbing thing, however, was the way his traitorous eyes immediately began scanning the crowd for a familiar head of blond hair. The second he caught himself in the act, Zexion forced himself to stop. Ascertaining Demyx's location was unnecessary, he reminded himself. Even if he located the other man, Demyx was with his own friends and would not care about Zexion in the slightest.

"Can you see a free table?" Quistis was asking Lexaeus whose height gave him a clear advantage for such a mission.

"Unfortunately, no," Lexaeus answered, his low voice almost blending in with the bass beat of the music and the ever-present drone of multiple conversations. "There are a few with some free chairs, but not as many as three together. Perhaps we should just find a quiet corner to stand in."

"And do what?" Zexion complained, irritated that he had to raise his voice to such a high level just to be heard. "Shout at each other all night?" He frowned at his friend and his friend's date through the half-darkness and smoke-haze. "No, this is ridiculous," he declared. "You two can stay and have a nice date together. Dance or whatever you do on dates. But I'm going home and going to bed."

He turned on his heel, planning on stomping out again, but Lexaeus caught him around the elbow before he could go far.

"Zex, don't be like that," the big man replied, something akin to wheedling lacing his tone. "Stay at least a bit. Have a drink." When Zexion shot him a glare and a frown, Lexaeus continued, "I know you generally hate going out to public places, so I was very pleasantly surprised when you suggested this."

"To be honest," Zexion stated, "I no longer have any idea why I did so in the first place."

"And yet you did," Lexaeus argued, "and you're here now, so stay for a while."

Zexion's frown deepened, and he was about to attempt prying Lexaeus's fingers off of him when a loud, unexpected voice interrupted them.

"Hey! I know you two!"

Both men turned their heads as a tall, skinny red-head pushed his way through the press of bodies towards them. Once he had successfully invaded their space, the stranger grinned, closed one green eye, and tapped his cheek with the index finger of the hand that was not currently closed around a beer.

"Let me see," he said, "where do I know you two from? … ah! I know! I've seen you at Leonhart's!" His grin widened and both eyes opened at the memory. "You guys are regular customers there, right? Yeah, that's why you look familiar. You probably don't remember me, but I'm Axel, Demyx's friend. Demyx is the goofy blond who works the counter at Leonhart's." He paused to take a swig of beer, thankfully missing the short expression of annoyance on Zexion's face at hearing Demyx be described as "goofy".

"So," Axel continued after he had swallowed, "you guys need a table, am I right? Well, come on this way. We've got room." He waved a hand lazily through the air and turned away, once more beginning to push his way through the crowd.

A sudden tremor of fear shot through Zexion. This man was offering to lead him straight to Demyx. A moment ago, he had been searching for the blond himself, but now that a guide had been provided, he wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run. Unfortunately, Lexaeus _still_ had him by the arm, and the big man had clearly decided that refusing Axel's offer would be foolish. Before Zexion could gather together enough oxygen molecules in his lungs to begin to protest, his friend had already taken Quistis by the arm and was dragging him across the room in Axel's wake.

At the first sight of blond hair, Zexion thought he would momentarily go into cardiac arrest. At the sight of those celestial blue-green eyes, he felt certain that his demise was imminent. But when those eyes lit up with joy and that face brightened enough to banish all the darkness and gloom of the entire world, he knew he had already died and entered into the afterlife. Demyx's smile was Heaven personified.

"Zexion!" he cried elatedly. "You came! And you brought Lexaeus, too!" He had leapt to his feet on seeing them, and now he came around the table to grab Quistis's hand and shake it. "Hi, I don't know you. I'm Demyx. I'm the one who invited Zexion to come here tonight."

"Quistis," she supplied, obviously a little bit surprised at the blond's enthusiasm. "Um, it's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too," he replied. Gesturing to a brunet and blonde seated at the table, he continued, "These guys are Marluxia and Larxene, and Luxord shows up every so often when he's not too busy running the place. Mar, Larx, this is Zexion, assistant to Professor Vexen over at the university, and Lexaeus, assistant to Professor Xaldin. I know them from work."

Marluxia and Larxene offered muted greetings which the three newcomers returned. As everyone settled into seats, Demyx asked brightly, "Does anyone want drinks? Snacks? I can go get Luxord. Or, you know, I could just go get things myself. I know where everything is, and no one has kicked me out of the kitchen yet."

Axel's hand descended onto Demyx's shoulder, making him jump. "Chill, Dem," the red-head said in the blond's ear. "You're being hyper."

"Oh," Demyx replied, subdued. "Sorry." He offered everyone a friendly but apologetic smile. Laughing, Axel ruffled his hair, then proceeded to take drink orders for the table. With the ice broken and Demyx back to normal, the atmosphere of the table relaxed and gradually they all fell into pleasant conversation. Several minutes later when Axel returned, he brought drinks, food, and Luxord who promised to be back periodically throughout the night.

For the next two hours, the seven or occasionally eight of them talked, laughed, ate, drank, and shot down all attempts by Luxord to play poker, gin, and go fish - although Demyx pouted a bit at the refusal of the others to play the last. Axel flirted with Quistis until he received a particularly nasty glare from Lexaeus, after which he flirted with most of the females who wandered by their table. Quistis accepted one of Demyx's multiple offers to dance, both of Lexaeus's, and none of Axel's. Larxene spent the majority of the night in Marluxia's lap, experimenting on how many ways she could wrap her long legs around him. She and Quistis seemed to bond in some strange female way, much to the surprise of both Marluxia and Lexaeus who both declared that the two had nothing in common other than their X chromosomes.

As for Zexion, he participated in the occasional social interaction, declined all offers to dance, ate little, drank less, and watched Demyx as much and as discreetly as possible. However, in spite of the fact that Demyx was _right there_ , making him warm and light-headed with his smiles and his laughter, Zexion did everything in his power to avoid exchanging more than a few words with the musician. His most recent letter still sat fresh in the scientist's mind, particularly Demyx's assertions in relation to "George". Apparently, he could no longer trust his eyes to keep his secrets.

In Zexion's opinion, his life was rapidly becoming a nightmare. His relationship with Demyx under the guise of Echo was quite acceptable. Demyx was hinting at a desire for a face-to-face meeting, but at the present it was still weak enough that Zexion could just ignore it. His actual face-to-face relationship with Demyx, however, was a disaster. Somehow the musician had gotten the idea into his head that Zexion wanted to be befriended when the reality was the exact opposite. The closer that Demyx came to him, the more likely the blond would realize that Zexion and Echo were the same. And that, in Zexion's estimation, would signal the beginning of the end. Because, while Echo had enough mystery to keep Demyx interested, Zexion himself was dull, uninteresting, and ultimately unworthy of Demyx's time.

Yet, in spite of the fact that he knew this very well and in spite of the fact that the best way to discourage Demyx's attentions would be to ignore his offers of friendship, Zexion had come to the bar tonight. He still had absolutely no idea why.

"Hey, Dem!" Luxord had reappeared after yet another brief absence and settled his arms on the back of the blond's chair. When the addressed looked up at him, Luxord continued, "Some of the ladies have requested that you sing for us. You up to it?"

"Um … well …"

"Oh go on, Dem," Axel encouraged him, waving yet another beer in his general direction. Of all of them, the red-head had undoubtedly consumed the most alcohol so far although he was only barely showing signs of it. "It's the last time the chicks'll get to swoon over you this year. Give 'em what they want. Or," he amended with a wink, " _pretend_ to give 'em what they want since we both know you aren't gonna _actually_ give 'em what they want."

Demyx blushed a little and shoved Axel in the arm. "Shut up!" he demanded.

The red-head just laughed and turned his attention to his other friend. "Anyone ask for me yet, Lux?"

"Yes," the bar owner answered, "but I'm not about to let you do anything resembling your act tonight. Too much booze at the moment, both in the air and in your liver. Just because I have fire insurance doesn't mean I want to file a claim." He turned away before Axel could sputter out an indignant response and gracefully climbed up onto the bar's small stage.

It took a while before people began to notice him and quiet down, but Luxord waited patiently, arms raised and palms out in a gesture of attention. An astute employee turned off the music which further aided in his quest for quiet. Once the room's noise level was low enough that he could be heard over it, he lowered his arms, lifted his chin, and called, "If I may have everyone's attention, please. I am quite pleased to announce that Demyx, regular performer here at The Royal Flush and my own personal friend, has agreed to sing a few songs for us."

Several girls throughout the bar sent up shouts and squeals of approval, and many of their dates clapped as well. Demyx, however, didn't seem to hear them.

"I didn't actually say I would," he whispered to himself sadly, his eyes firmly fixed on his hands as they sat folded on the table.

Something inside Zexion ripped apart at the sight of the blond musician's distress. Without thinking or caring as to why or what it might bring, he reached out his hand and took Demyx around the wrist. The other man's head shot up, and instantly Zexion was staring into oceans of surprised blue-green, enough beautiful color to drown a man where he sat.

"Sing," Zexion said quietly to those waves of worry and doubt. "Please. I would very much like to hear you."

"Really?" Demyx asked, his familiar happiness already beginning to return.

"Yes. Really."

The smile that Zexion received in reply positively dazzled him.

It was just slightly after eleven when Demyx stepped onto the stage, tuned guitar in hand, and asked one of the girls who had gathered in a group before him for a request. After finishing that song, he performed another, then led the entire bar in a round of "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" in honor of Luxord. After two more love songs and a bit of banter with Axel who had taken on the role of audience heckler, he taught the bar the words to "Auld Lang Syne" and led them in a group sing again. Then, he went back to requests, taking care to flirt with all of his female admirers equally.

The entire time, Zexion sat with his head in one hand and just listened.

"Okay," Demyx finally said, "what time is it? How close to midnight are we?"

"It's 11:37," Axel supplied. "Why? You finally done?" Several girls hissed and whined at Axel for his comment, but the red-head just laughed them off.

"Almost," Demyx replied to his question, causing his admirers to whine at him instead. Lifting his hands at them in placation, he smiled and continued, "But I'll do one more song for you. One I wrote myself." The girls perked up at this, and one asked if they had heard it before. "No," he told her, "this one is new. I only finished it yesterday. It means a lot to me, though. I wrote it for someone special."

A fluttering of whispering and cooing ran through the females as they speculated on who that could be. Demyx just smiled secretly at them and checked his tuning. Just before he began to play, however, his eyes shifted to the table where his friends sat.

Zexion caught that calm blue-green gaze, and his mouth went dry.

Softly, Demyx sang:

 

"I see the beauty in the cracked linoleum

And feel the beat of the world in my veins.

I hear your voice in my head.

You're on my mind this time.

 

"You say you ain't feeling it,

Probably gonna run.

Can't tell me why you're here,

Just can't tell me.

 

"Photographs fall out of the envelope,

Words written, tryin' to give you hope.

I read it by candle, read it by day,

Write in the moonlight, hope the ink stays …"

 

Zexion couldn't breathe. He knew this song existed; he knew that Demyx had written about him, about them. But to hear it like this - so raw, so bare - it felt like someone had impaled his chest with a lance, had pinned him to the wall to struggle and beat his wings against the surface in vain. The pain of it, the vulnerability, it crushed his lungs and paralyzed him.

But Demyx … Demyx was singing those words, that reality, in such a soft, gentle voice. The music that his fingers were bringing forth as they moved expertly over the strings was tender, sad, aching. The words themselves had stripped Zexion bare, but Demyx's voice was slowly, lovingly, covering him again. Easing the pain, treating the wounds, leaving him stunned and panting in a warm haze of confusion and disorientation. And in that one moment, Zexion suddenly had all the answers to the questions that had been plaguing him for a year and a half.

 

"I whisper my dreams to you,

Try to show you my world.

But you just don't understand

Why my world turns.

 

"You tell me that you think

Your heart's just there to beat,

But I feel the thrum a drum drum of it

Through the paper and ink.

 

"Photographs fall out of the envelope,

Words written, tryin' to give you hope.

I read it by candle, read it by day,

Write in the moonlight, hope the ink stays.

Read it by candle, read it by day,

Write in the moonlight, hope the ink stays …"

 

Demyx's voice died away with the final chord, and a heartbeat later, the room erupted into cheers and applause. Zexion barely registered the noise. At the moment, he barely existed. Demyx's gaze found him again, and the blond smiled, first as usual, then with something concerned and curious in his eyes. Quickly, Zexion lowered his own eyes to the table before they could betray him any further. They stayed firmly rooted there as Demyx went through his thank-yous and left the stage to put away his instrument. They stayed there as the rest of the table started up conversations around him. And they stayed there even when Demyx returned to the table and asked him how he had liked the songs.

_… 10 …_

Zexion replied that he liked them very much.

_… 9 …_

Demyx asked what he had thought of the last one.

_… 8 …_

Zexion replied that it was a very good song.

_… 7 …_

Although, he admitted, he didn't really understand the lyrics.

_… 6 …_

Demyx laughed and said that was all right. He had made them vague on purpose.

_… 5 …_

Zexion did not bother to state that his lack of comprehension was not Demyx's fault. Modern songs made no sense to him.

_… 4 …_

Little made sense to him anymore.

_… 3 …_

Little would make sense ever again.

_… 2 …_

Because Zexion had become the type of person that he despised, the type he looked down upon in disdain. Zexion had become the type of person he had always sworn he would never be.

_… 1 …_

Zexion was in love with Demyx.

_… 0_


	23. Cloud

_He stares at his own face in the mirror in mild distaste and frustration. His hair is sticking up in spikes again. It doesn't matter how much time or hair products he spends on it, it_ **_always_ ** _sticks up like this. Normally he doesn't care, but today the style clashes terribly with his button-down shirt and tie. He doubts he will make that good of a first impression on his new boss looking as if he just rolled out of bed._

_Sighing, he turns away from the mirror and leaves the bedroom._

_His wife is waiting for him in the kitchen. He is too nervous for breakfast and tells her so. She frowns disapprovingly at him but hands him a cup of coffee without comment, putting away the carton of eggs and the loaf of bread as he sips at it. Half a minute later, he places the mug in the sink, still half-full, and heads to the hallway for his coat and briefcase. It is far too early to leave, but the thought of waiting around makes him ill. He decides to drive over early and just wait in the parking lot until the proper time._

_Aerith steps into the hall as he is putting on his coat. She holds a soft-sided cooler in one hand, and with the other, she picks up his briefcase to hold it out to him._

_"I made you roast beef for lunch," she tells him. "Mustard and lettuce, no cheese, no tomato."_

_"Thank you," he smiles, taking the cooler from her. When he reaches out for the briefcase, however, he sees something in her eyes that makes him pause. "What?" he asks. "What's wrong?"_

_She shakes her head, brown braids swinging back and forth. "Nothing's wrong," she says. "It's just …" One delicate hand raises to rub out a tear before it can form. "It's just that this was always a dream of mine, to send my husband off to work with a home-made lunch and a kiss. The only thing missing is …" She trails off and looks away, but he knows exactly what goes unsaid. "It just doesn't seem fair," she finishes, eyes still averted, "that I should be allowed to live my dreams at the cost of yours."_

_He sighs and shakes his head at her. This is why he can't be mad at her for what happened. Even after all this time, she can't seem to forgive herself._

_"Aerith," he says, stepping close to her and lifting her chin with one hand. "I told you, it's okay."_

_"But, Cloud …"_

_"I made the choice to stay with you, to live for you. It was my choice to make and I made it. So stop thinking about it." He smiles a little as he releases her face and lets his hand fall lower. "Think about this instead," he says softly, his hand coming to rest on her abdomen._

_Her face brightens immediately, glowing with maternal anticipation. One hand comes to rest beside his, their fingers not quite touching._

_"This time," she whispers to herself. She says nothing more, but he understands perfectly._

_"Yeah," he agrees, even though deep down he has trouble believing. The doctor had not been positive, especially considering the other two._

_Shaking away his fearful thoughts, he claims his briefcase and steps back from her. His first day at his first real, adult job still waits for him._

_"I'm off."_

_"Have a good day."_

_"Thanks."_

_He takes one last look at her smiling supportive face and then exits the apartment for the "real world"._

xXx

Cloud had expected Sora and Roxas to sleep in on his first day of his new job. After all, school was starting up soon so their days of leisure were numbered. Yet to his surprise, both boys were not only up but coherent and functioning by the time he wandered downstairs.

"Morning, Dad!" Sora chirped as Cloud reached the bottom of the stairs. "Would you like frozen waffles or scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast?"

For a moment, Cloud just stared at him, not believing that his teenage son was actually standing before him at six in the morning. "Breakfast?" he eventually echoed.

"Yeah," Sora answered easily, ignoring his father's reaction, "Roxas is making it. So which do you want?"

"Which … ?" Cloud stopped himself and, with a firm shake of his head, forced himself to focus. He ran Sora's previous sentences through his mind and finally recognized the question that had been asked of him. Although, once he had paid attention, his lack of options made his lips quirk upwards. In a teasing voice, he asked Sora, "Are those my only choices?"

"You'd better believe it!" Roxas yelled from the kitchen before Sora could answer. "I can't make anything else!"

Sora made a face at his brother's interruption, causing Cloud to swallow sudden laughter. When he had gotten himself under control again, he offered, "How about if I make us all pancakes?"

"No," Sora replied immediately, shaking his head. "We want to make it for you. I already made your lunch. Here." He shoved a brown paper bag into Cloud's hands and, once his own hands were free, planted them on his hips in a demanding gesture. "Now choose," he ordered, "or else Roxas is gonna default to waffles 'cause they're easier."

"Too late! Toaster's already going!"

At this announcement from the kitchen, Sora groaned loudly, but Cloud was once again too surprised to react. He looked down at the brown bag he held in a kind of muted awe. There were peanut butter stains on one side of it and the top was already extremely crumpled due to Sora's nervous fingers, but to Cloud, it couldn't have been more perfect.

Yet again, his boys were taking care of him instead of the other way around.

"You guys didn't have to do this," he murmured.

"We know," Sora answered, grinning, "but we wanted to. It's your first day at a new job, and we wanted to give you a proper send-off." Leaving Cloud in the hall, he turned around and wandered into the kitchen, complaining, "Why did you offer to make breakfast if all you were going to do was stick waffles in the toaster? I could have cooked, and you could have made his lunch."

"I doubt Dad wants burnt eggs for breakfast."

"That was _one time!_ "

As Roxas's laughter rang out in response, Cloud tightened his grip on his lunch and briefly closed his eyes with a smile. A warmth had crept into his chest and was gradually taking over his whole body. A sensation brought on by the simple act of having his two boys prepare his meals for him.

Once, years ago, Aerith had said her favorite moments in life were the ones when the people she loved would come together as a family. They were simple, everyday moments that could easily slip by and be overlooked, and yet they each had a special kind of power that she treasured. When people joined together as a family, she had said, they formed a connection that bound them together, and each one made their love deeper, their connection to each other that much more unbreakable. It was, to her, a truly precious gift.

At the time, Cloud hadn't really understood, but now he thought that maybe he was beginning to understand how she felt.

"Dad! Waffles are done! Come eat!"

"Roxas, you didn't make any coffee! Move over. I'll do it."

"No! Don't you dare touch that machine, Sora. Breakfast is _my_ domain. Now get out. Go set the table or something."

"Hmph. Your domain, my butt. What's with you being all possessive and - hey! Don't splash water on me - HEY!"

"Get out."

"S-stop it!"

"Now."

Opening his eyes, Cloud lifted his head in the direction of the kitchen and smirked. Of course, should siblings be a part of the family, then fights were unavoidable. That was undoubtedly a universal truth.

" _Daaaa-aaaad!_ "

"Don't listen to him, Dad. He started it."

"I most certainly did not! And _stop splashing me!_ "

"No. … Sora, what are you doing with the flour canister?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

" _DAAAAAD!_ "

Cloud placed his lunch on the dining room table and quickly strode towards the kitchen with a sigh, hoping that it wouldn't be destroyed before he got there. While he appreciated the thought of a surprise breakfast, he didn't want a ruined kitchen to be the price for it. After all, he truly doubted his new boss would be happy with him being late to work because he had to draw and quarter his sons before he could leave.

xXx

When Cloud arrived at the office complex, his new boss was standing in the door to the parking lot, chomping on a toothpick and waiting for him.

"Another thirty seconds and ya'd have been late, Strife," the man drawled, glancing at his watch with sharp eyes. "Not the best way to make a good impression on me, I gotta say."

Cloud discreetly lifted an eyebrow in surprise. He had known, thanks to his previous interview, that this company ran a little differently from the ones to which he had become accustomed and that its owner was a tad eccentric, but he hadn't expected to be met at the door like this and scolded like an errant child. "I apologize, Mr. Highwind, sir," he replied politely. "I had some parental responsibilities to take care of at home before I could come in."

Cid Highwind, owner and CEO of Highwind Engineers, grinned widely at him. "Had to give the little shits a whipping, did ya?" When Cloud's lips twitched in a repressed smirk, he chuckled and added, "Not a problem. I forgive ya." Turning, he waved a hand in Cloud's direction in a silent order to follow him. "I thought I told ya not to call me 'mister' or 'sir'. Just Cid is fine, or if you want, you can call me 'Captain'."

The two of them climbed the stairs to the second floor, Cid's thick boots tromping heavily with each step. Relieved that he had not blown his chances before even getting through the door, Cloud dutifully answered all of Cid's small talk questions about the move. When they reached the closed door of HE's office, however, the younger engineer fell silent and inhaled a short breath to calm his remaining nerves. He was nowhere near as anxious as he had been on the first day he had entered the workforce, but still, this was a new situation with new people and unknown responsibilities. Anyone would be nervous, or so he kept telling himself as Cid grasped the handle of the door and pushed.

"Good morning, Captain!" an overly-cheerful voice chirped when they walked inside. Slightly surprised, Cloud followed the sound of the voice to find that it had come from a slightly-plump young man sitting at the secretary's desk. Noticing Cloud, the young man quickly rose from his seat and dipped his dark head in the blond's direction. "You must be Mr. Strife," he said, still sounding like far too much rainbows and sunshine for Cloud's taste. "Pleased to meet you. I am Watts, administrative assistant for Highwind Engineers. If there's anything you need, sir, just let me know and I'll get on it right away."

Cloud blinked. When he had come to interview, the secretary had been a fluffy old lady. Confused, he glanced at Cid for an explanation.

"Grace retired," the older man supplied, twirling the toothpick around and around in his mouth. "We hired Watts just last month. He's kinda irritating, but you get used to him."

"Thank you, Captain, sir," Watts replied happily, giving his boss a little bow. Then, he bowed to Cloud and then, for good measure, to Cid again.

Cid ignored Watts's bizarre bobbing and waved him off with a bored expression. "Come on, then," he said to Cloud. "I'll show you your space and then introduce you around."

Glancing one more time at Watts and his overly-bright smile, Cloud shrugged and followed along behind Cid. They passed through the main room of drafters' tables and more conventional cubicles towards a row of offices at the back. Several people looked up in friendly curiosity as they passed, but Cloud ignored them for now. He knew he'd be meeting them all in a few minutes, so rather than try to introduce himself to anyone, he simply kept walking after Cid.

As they passed the slightly open door of one of the offices, however, a loud voice brought Cloud to a sudden halt.

"You listen to me, you one-eyed bitch! If you want your calcs done on time, you've got to give me the drawings on time, done right the first time around. If you go and change shit on me one week before the deadline, there's no way in hell I'm going to be able to turn them around in time. … I don't give a shit about that. That's why you dumb bimbos do soil surveys _before_ you submit your drawings. It ain't my fault if something you didn't plan on magically shows up once you finally get around to doing your job, and I ain't gonna sit here and let you chew my balls off for something that's _your_ responsibility."

Wide-eyed, Cloud turned his head to stare at the door in utter disbelief. Never had he heard such aggression or so much profanity in a workspace before. And because the occupant of the office was obviously talking to someone but there was no return voice talking back, that meant the man inside was on the phone. Cloud's mouth fell open slightly in his mind-freezing shock.

Cid had kept walking, but after a few paces, he noticed that he was no longer being followed and looked back. Seeing the younger man's expression, he broke out into a grin and quickly backtracked. Once he was close enough, he grabbed the knob of the partly open door and pushed it farther open, leaning inside the office as he did so.

"Hey, Xig," he said to the owner of the angry voice, "keep it down, will ya? Yer scaring the kids."

Peering in from over Cid's shoulder in a kind of fascinated horror, Cloud caught sight of a man about the same age as his boss, sitting behind the desk with the phone to his ear. The scowl the man wore was made that much more intimidating by the patch covering one eye and the long scar that ran down the side of his face.

"Sorry, Cid," the man said shortly, running a tense hand through dark hair streaked with gray.

Cid just gave him a wave and shut the door properly before turning as if to walk off again. Cloud, however, was still too shocked to move, and he grabbed hold of Cid's sleeve before the other man could get far.

As muted cursing began to once again filter out into the main room from the office, Cloud demanded, "Please tell me he isn't speaking to a client."

Cid rolled the toothpick around in his mouth and seemed to consider this for a moment. "Well," he finally said, "I could tell you that, but then I'd be lying." Cloud immediately felt sick, and he must have looked the part for Cid laughed and added, "Don't worry. Xig doesn't talk like that to everyone. Just Beatrix. She's a project manager over at Alexandria Architects."

"An architect?" Cloud echoed, swallowing thickly.

"Yeah," Cid confirmed. "She's also his wife," he added with another grin, "so there's no need to worry. Come on, then." He turned and began walking again.

This time, Cloud found enough control to make his feet move, and the action encouraged his stunned mind to function again. If the two participants of the argument were married, he surmised, then it was unlikely that the abused client would file a complaint or do anything else that would adversely affect the company. Of course, the same probably couldn't be said for when this "Xig" person got home at night. Unexpectedly, that thought calmed Cloud down considerably and brought a small smirk to his face.

"His wife," he mused to himself as he and Cid approached the door to an empty office. "He called her a one-eyed … so does that mean … ?"

"That's right," the older man laughed, pushing open the door. "They've got one good pair of eyes between the two of them. Match made in Heaven if you ask me." Using his free hand, he gestured grandly into the office. "Well, here you are. It's a bit small, I know, but it's the best I can do for you right now."

With a shake of his head, Cloud forced himself to stop thinking about the very unprofessional conversation he had just heard and stepped into the room he had been given. A quick look around confirmed Cid's words; it was definitely on the small side. However, Cloud wasn't about to complain. E.I.T.s like him rarely got their own offices. At his old job, he had had to work himself ragged to get one. To be given one upon entering a company was a definite blessing.

"I'll be fine," he quickly stated, turning to Cid with an appreciative expression. "Thank you."

"Not a problem, kid. Now let's take you around and introduce you to everyone."

For the next thirty minutes or so, Cloud went through the process of introducing himself to the other employees of his new company. While he knew he would forget half of their names immediately and have to be reminded several times before he got them all down, he paid particular attention to Cid's trio of drafters. Cloud knew from experience that he would be working with them early and often. Of the three, the woman, Jessie, seemed the most capable although Cloud didn't really like the way her eyes lit up with obvious attraction the moment he met her. As for the two men, Wedge reminded him too much of Watts - Cloud just _knew_ he was going to get the two of them mixed up for months - and Biggs exuded a slightly arrogant attitude that he didn't like. Cid confidently stated, however, that all three were extremely good at their jobs, so Cloud politely shook their hands and kept his opinions to himself.

By the time the two men had made the rounds and begun to wander back towards the offices, the door that Cid had closed stood open again, and as they approached, the man inside rose from his desk and walked around it to meet them, clearly expecting Cid's call.

"Xig, you got a minute?"

"Sure." Now that the other man was standing, Cloud could see that he was fairly tall and leanly muscular. He was also, Cloud noted with surprise, younger than he had first thought, the gray in his hair and the disfigurement of his face making him appear older than he actually was.

"You must be the new guy," the man was saying. "I'm Xigbar, P.E. and head project manager." He extended a hand which Cloud accepted. As they shook, Xigbar continued, "That of course means that, unless Cid wants you for something, your ass is mine to do with as I please."

While Cloud processed this and tried not to appear too surprised, Xigbar leaned back against the door to his office, crossed his arms, and proceeded to dissect the blond with his pale green eyes. "Been a while since we had any fresh meat," he commented after a minute. "God knows I've needed the help for long enough, but Highwind's such a tight bastard that he refused to hire just anyone. Had to be 'the right man for the job'. Guess that's you, although the old man's senile half the time so I'll have to reserve my judgment until I see what you can do."

"I'm standing right here, Xig."

"You think I don't know that? I wouldn't bother insulting you if you weren't."

Cloud repressed a smirk as the two men glared good-naturedly at each other. He hadn't expected the veiled compliment within Xigbar's words, although of all the many and various surprises that had been dumped on him since waking up this morning, this was one of the more pleasant ones. Apparently, he no longer needed to worry about making a good impression on Cid; he wouldn't have been hired in the first place if he hadn't done so already.

"Anyway," Xigbar continued, returning his attention to Cloud, "I hope you're prepared to work your ass off 'cause you aren't going to get much of a choice."

"Bea giving you grief, Xig?" Cid asked, lifting his eyebrows in question.

Xigbar sighed heavily and rolled his good eye. "Cid, don't even get me started." To Cloud he said, "Hurry up and get settled in, kid, 'cause I needed you a year ago. _Biggs!_ " he suddenly yelled, making Cloud jump. "What are you doing right now?"

"I'm working on -"

"Wrong," Xigbar cut the drafter off. "The correct answer is 'Whatever it is you want me to be working on, Xig.' Now get your skinny ass over here." While, on the other side of the room, Biggs scrambled to comply, Xigbar turned one final time to Cloud. "Oh, and one more thing: this." He pointed to the patch over his eye. "I lost it in a surfboarding accident back when I was a stupid kid and thought getting high and then hitting the waves was a good idea. So now you know and don't have to waste any time wondering about it or worrying whether it's okay to ask anyone else. Alright? Good." He clapped Cloud on the shoulder once, then used the same hand to reach out and snag Biggs who had run up beside them. As he shoved the drafter into his office, Xigbar said, "I expect to see you in half an hour at most, settled in and ready to work." The door shut behind him with a click.

Left behind, Cloud turned to Cid who was once again grinning at him, although this time there was something calculating behind the other man's clear, sharp gaze. "So, Strife," he asked, "you ready to get down to work?"

The challenge in Cid's eyes was clear. The man knew he ran an unconventional office and was proud of it. The only question remaining was whether Cloud would be able to deal with it and find his place within it or whether he would turn and run. With such an aggressive and intimidating man as head project manager, Cid had undoubtedly seen his fair share of runners.

Luckily for his new boss, Cloud was not easily intimidated.

"Absolutely," he replied to the older man's question.

Cid's eyes lit up with excitement and happiness at his answer. He clapped Cloud on the back and steered him back towards the empty office, declaring as they went, "I _knew_ you were the right man for the job. Welcome aboard, Strife."

xXx

That night, Cloud stretched out on the couch in his living room and relaxed. The day's paper rested on his chest, but he hadn't bothered to open it yet. Instead, he tilted his head back and lay there with closed eyes, letting his mind go blank. Upstairs, his sons were engaged in a heated cyber-battle of some sort, but on this floor everything was quiet and still.

His first day on the job had certainly been a trial by fire. Xigbar had thrown him head-first into not one, but two projects and expected him to hold his head above water on his own. Cloud had made important decisions, ordered drafters around, and talked with clients as if he had already been working there for months. He had even spent some time talking with the infamous Beatrix, an experience which left him with a newfound sense of awe for his project manager. That the man could be married to such a severe, cold woman astounded him.

The phone rang, making Cloud twitch out of his half-daze, but before he could roll off of the couch to answer it, he heard Sora upstairs yell, "I got it!" The next ring cut off mid-jangle, signaling the boy's success. Cloud resettled into the couch and closed his eyes once more.

Only a few moments had passed, however, when Cloud heard the sound of feet approaching. He cracked open one eye to find Roxas standing in the doorway to the room, the portable in his hand.

"Phone's for you," he said with an unreadable half-smirk.

Lifting an eyebrow at his son's expression, Cloud sat up and took the offered phone. He lifted it to his ear, vaguely registering Sora chatting on the other extension, but as he took a breath to say hello, what he heard made him inhale sharply and nearly choke.

"I don't expect the two of you to have sex on the first date, but if you do, you'd better be gentle with him, you hear me? Use a condom and _lots_ of lube. If he comes home walking funny, Roxas and I will vandalize your store or something. And whether you have sex or not, don't put any marks on him, at least not where anybody at work would be able to see. We expect you to be very considerate to him and respectful of his feelings. It's your responsibility as the dominant one to take care of him."

"Sora!" Cloud shrilled, finally finding his voice again. "What are you _doing_?"

Roxas sniggered in the doorway as Sora's cheerful voice replied, "Hi, Dad! I'm just laying down the guidelines for Leon." He paused, and when he spoke again, Cloud could _see_ the evil grin on his normally innocent son's face. "Revenge for Riku. Bye!" The extension clicked off.

A good half-minute passed before either man said anything. Then, still partly in a state of horrified shock, Cloud ventured, "Leon?"

"Yeah," the other man's voice answered quietly. "I'm here. I'm just kind of … stunned. And more than a little embarrassed."

"You and me both," Cloud murmured. He lifted his eyes to the doorway, but Roxas was long gone. Thinking out loud, he said, "I wonder why they assumed you would be the dominant one."

"Probably because you're the pretty one," Leon answered with an audible smirk.

Cloud laughed, and with that one sound, all of the tension between them melted away in an instant. "So," he asked, already suspecting the answer, "why are you calling?"

"To ask you out on a date, of course. Why else would I subject myself to your sons?" He waited for Cloud to stop laughing again and then asked, "Are you still interested?"

"Of course I am," Cloud replied, smiling at the tiny trace of vulnerability that had whispered through the other man's hard voice.

"Good. I couldn't think of anything more interesting than dinner, but I figured it'd be a good way to start off. We can just spend some time together. Talk."

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"All right then." Again, the smallest bit of emotion leaked into the man's words, this time relief. "Is Friday good for you, or would you prefer Saturday?"

"Friday's fine."

"Okay. The store closes at 7:00. Drop by fifteen or twenty minutes after that, and I should be ready to go."

"All right, I will."

"Okay. I'll see you then, Cloud."

"See you then."

Leon's end of the connection closed with a click, and Cloud hung up his end as well. He was slightly surprised that Leon hadn't wanted to talk more, but then again, Cloud hadn't exactly tried to keep Leon on the line either. They were both nervous; he could feel it. They were anxious, unsure of themselves. They were getting ready to reopen a door that had been closed for so long that neither one knew anymore what lay on the other side of it. However, the important thing in his mind was that they were ready to open it, together.

Suddenly extremely tired, Cloud stretched out onto the couch again and closed his eyes. This upcoming week was going to be tough as he continued to learn and adjust, but at least now he had something special to look forward to at the end of it. And while he doubted that he and Leon would need Sora's impromptu advice, something inside of him was convinced that their date would be more substantial than simply dinner and conversation. Cloud could still feel the way Leon had touched him when they stood together in the extra bedroom of the Kinneas' house; he could still see the burning of the other man's eyes as they looked at each other. They had made a connection that night and, at least for Cloud, it hadn't faded even a little since. Yes, something important would be happening this Friday; he knew it in his heart.

A little contented smile hovered over Cloud's lips and remained there even as the young man gave in to his exhaustion and fell into an easy, dreamless sleep.


	24. Leon

_He can hear her footfalls over his head as she steps out of the house and onto the porch. When she calls his name, there is sadness and worry in her tone, but he ignores it, tightening his hold on his legs and making the ball into which he has curled himself smaller. He doesn't want to see her. His life is ruined now, and it's all her fault._

_The screen door bangs against the frame a couple of times, and he watches as her feet descend the stairs into the yard. "Squall?" she calls again._

_He's about to cry again; he can feel it. Scowling, he buries his face in his knees and squeezes his thighs until they sting._

_"Squall? Where are you? Please don't hide from me."_

_Let her look for him. Let her look and never find him. Let him die here, alone and in the dark._ **_Then_ ** _let her find him, when he's a lifeless, rotting corpse. Let her cry over him and wail and pull her hair out and bemoan the fact that_ **_she_ ** _is the reason why her little brother is dead and decaying. Let her suffer and regret._

_"Oh, there you are. What are you doing underneath the porch?"_

_His head snaps up at the voice that is only a foot or so away from him. She is there, kneeling in the dirt on the other side of the latticed wood, gazing in at him. He scowls at her and turns his body away. Next time he decides to hide from the world, he will remember not to wear a neon green shirt._

_"How did you get under there anyway?" she asks with a smile. "Is there an opening I don't know about? Can I get in there, too, or am I too big to fit?" When she realizes that he intends to continue ignoring her, she slips a few fingers through the patterned holes as if trying to touch him. "Squall, please don't do this. Don't be like this."_

_He says nothing and sulks. He will do and be whatever the heck he wants. She has betrayed him, violated his trust. He gave her every last ounce of love and devotion his heart could produce, and she has thrown it away with barely a thought._

_"It's not like I'll never see you again. I'll be home for Christmas break and then again in the summer. And you can send me letters and call me whenever you want."_

_More tears threaten, but he snuffles them back up his nose. He will not cry even though she is abandoning him. Even though it hurts so bad inside. The anger helps, almost comforting in its strength and focus. Determinedly, he holds onto it and wraps it around himself to ward off the pain. He will not give her the satisfaction of seeing his tears. He will be strong and resolute until she leaves, and then he will curl up here beneath the porch and die._

_"Squall?"_

_Won't she be sorry then?_

_Answered by nothing but his sullen silence, she sighs and sits back on her heels. Her pale fingers lace together in her lap as she says, "I've wanted to go to this school for years, Squall. You know that. It's been my dream to study there. I worked so hard to be accepted, and when I was, I was so happy. I thought … I hoped … that you would be happy for me."_

_Her voice is so sad, so disappointed. It makes the pain flare in his chest. Quickly, he taps into the anger to make the hurt go away._

_"If you loved me," he accuses, "you wouldn't leave."_

_She starts a little at the sound of his voice, but a moment later, she responds calmly, knowingly, "If_ **_you_ ** _loved_ **_me_** _, you'd encourage me to follow my dreams." When his only response is to hide his face again, she adds, "Sometimes, love means putting aside your own wants to make someone else happy."_

_He hears the rustling of her skirt as she stands, and when she next speaks, her voice floats down to him from above. "I do love you, Squall. Very much. It never mattered to me that we have different mothers. You've always been my precious little brother, dearer to me than anyone else. But loving you doesn't mean destroying my own chance at happiness just because you don't want me to go. I have my own heart, and I want to follow it." She pauses, then says more softly, "Someday, I hope you understand."_

_Her feet move away, up the steps again, and a moment later, he hears the screen door bounce on its frame once more. She is gone, and he is alone._

_The anger that he needs so desperately quickly fades without her presence to keep it hot. Soon, the tears are falling and he can do nothing to stop them or even slow them down. There is just so much pain; surely it will never stop. His heart is broken and it will never heal._

_"Sis …" he whispers to the surrounding dark before falling into shaking, voiceless sobs._

xXx

Friday was quite possibly the longest day of Leon's life. If he had thought he was feeling impatient and anxious during the week, it was nothing compared to the day itself. He kept looking at the clock to see how much time had passed and kept finding out that it was less than an hour, or worse mere minutes. By lunchtime, he had convinced himself that his store had fallen into a pocket of distorted space-time and that they were rapidly approaching the speed of light when time would stop altogether.

Finally, _finally_ , the clock on the wall read 6:45, and Leon began wrapping things up around the store in preparation for closing. Rather than run the risk of Yuffie being around when Cloud showed up, he booted her out early with a free copy of a bridal magazine and an order not to come back until lunch the next day. As for Demyx, Leon asked the younger man if he had any plans for the night and, hearing that he didn't, handed him the phone and told him to call Axel. Luckily, the blond understood, and soon he was gone as well, off to his best friend's place for the evening.

At 7:00 sharp, Leon paused in his cleaning to lock the front door and flip the sign to 'Closed'. Ten minutes later, he stood at the front counter, looking about his store in stunned bewilderment. Even without the two extra sets of hands he usually had, he had managed to get everything done with extra time to spare. Despairingly, he racked his brain for something that he had missed, anything that he could do to relieve the nervous energy that was thrumming through his body. When he came up empty, he pulled a folding chair out from the back room and sat down on it, resigning himself to having to wait yet again. His fingers drummed restlessly on the counter as he stared out the front window towards the street.

The clock had barely flipped over to 7:15 when a familiar-looking sedan slid to a stop in one of the metered spaces in front of the store. Leon was on his feet and had grabbed his coat from the back room before the engine died. By the time Cloud was emerging from his car, Leon had reached the front door and was pulling it open. It was utterly freezing outside, but one look from those clear blue eyes sent a kind of liquid warmth coursing through Leon's body from the very center of his chest.

"Hi," Cloud said.

"Hi," Leon replied. His gaze slid briefly over the ordinary-looking car, and he teased, "Didn't want to take Fenrir out for a run?"

Cloud grimaced. "Not in this weather," he explained. "Besides, I didn't know where we were going or if we'd need a ride to get there."

Leon hesitated. Cloud had wandered around his car to stand on the sidewalk, but he still stood several feet away, not within touching distance. Even if he were close enough to touch, both men had their hands firmly stuffed in their pockets and their chins tucked down, ostensibly to protect against the wind but in reality at least partly as a defensive gesture. The uncertainty and nervousness of both men were tangible.

Making a conscious effort to relax himself, Leon pulled his hands from his pockets and offered Cloud a small smile. "We're just going down the street," he said. "There's a really good Thai place tucked into a corner a block down."

At Leon's smile, Cloud seemed to relax a bit as well. His shoulders untensed and he took a step closer to the other man. "Sounds good. Lead the way."

They walked side by side down the street in silence, still not touching but close enough that they could have had they wished to do so. With every step, Leon felt his tension drain further and further away. Cloud did not speak to him, did not look at him, but the atmosphere between the two of them was comfortable. They stayed silent, not because they didn't know what to say, but because neither felt the need.

When they reached the restaurant, Leon pulled open the door for Cloud who thanked him with a nod of his head. The smiling hostess seated them immediately, gave them their menus, took their drink orders, and wandered away to give them privacy.

As Leon took off his coat and placed it on the back of his chair, a sharp gasp grabbed his attention and forced him to look inquisitively at Cloud who sat across from him. The blond was staring at him openly but not at his face. Instead, the blue gaze was fixed on his chest, in particular the ornament that hung around his neck.

"You're wearing Griever," Cloud said softly after a moment.

Leon smirked a little at the obvious happiness in the other's voice. "Yeah."

"I thought …" Cloud's gaze finally lifted and met Leon's. "I just assumed you had gotten rid of it."

"I put him away for a long while," Leon admitted, pulling the pendant away from his breast and letting it rest in his hand for a moment, "but I'd never get rid of Griever completely." A smile flickered across his lips as he stated in a lower voice, "Someone very special gave him to me."

Cloud's face flushed, and he buried his nose in his menu. Smiling fully at the other's reaction, Leon picked up his own menu and concentrated on his order. Once the waitress had come and gone, taking their orders with her, he decided to start a new conversation, one that wouldn't result in embarrassment, and asked Cloud about his new job. This topic suited the other man well, and the two fell into an easy rhythm of question and answer that lasted through the entire meal.

The dinner itself stayed casual and friendly. Leon kept his hands to himself, made no inappropriate comments, and did not allow himself to stare for too long; Cloud did the same. The undercurrent that existed between them remained muted and controlled while still intimate and comfortable. By the time Leon was reaching for the check, he could almost believe that they had never been apart, that the last six years of bitter torment had never happened at all.

The pace of their conversation slowed somewhat on the walk back to the bookstore, but it did not stop. Only when Leon pulled out his keys and moved to unlock the door did Cloud fall completely silent again. Pausing with the key half in the lock, Leon turned to look at the other man. Cloud's eyes were on his car, but his body was mostly turned towards Leon, frozen in a moment of indecision. The expression on the blond's face clearly showed the conflict that was brewing within him; he wanted to stay but he didn't know if he was welcome or how he should ask. Leon repressed a knowing smile as he looked at him. He had no intention of letting Cloud go just yet.

"Hey," he said, bringing Cloud's eyes snapping back to his own, "you want to come up? I'll make some coffee."

A wave of relief washed over Cloud's face. "Yeah," he replied, "I'd like that."

Leon only nodded and pushed open the door. After locking it again behind them, he put his keys away and then reached out and took Cloud by the elbow. The thick darkness surrounding them hid the smirk that curved his lips at the blond's almost unnoticeable intake of breath.

"I'm not going to bother turning on the lights," Leon explained. "Stay close to me."

"Right."

Navigating from years of experience, Leon led Cloud through the pitch-black store, into the back room, and to the bottom of the stairs. Once there, he briefly considered continuing on in the dark - he could use the opportunity to "guide" Cloud's hand to the railing and then stay closer to him than necessary as they ascended for "safety's sake" - but he eventually decided against it and flicked the switch that illuminated the second floor. Reluctantly, he dropped Cloud's elbow and began to climb.

Once they were inside the apartment, Leon slipped into the kitchen and began the process of making coffee. Cloud did not follow him, choosing instead to wait in the main room. With the fluid movements of one with much practice, Leon measured out the beans, ground them, stuck them in the filter and the filter in the machine, measured out the water and poured it in, and finally pressed the button to get the whole thing started. The entire time he couldn't stop thinking about Cloud's arm beneath his hand, Cloud's body beside and behind him as they walked. Leon didn't know how far they would end up going tonight, but he knew one thing: he wanted to touch that body at least one more time.

Cloud had said nothing while Leon was in the kitchen, so the brunet wasn't entirely sure what to expect when he emerged into the main room. He assumed the other man would have sat down somewhere, either on the couch or in one of the single chairs in the room. Instead, he found Cloud standing by the window, gazing out into the night sky with one hand lightly pressed against the glass.

Leon took a moment to stand there in the entrance to the kitchen and simply look at the man he loved. Cloud hadn't bothered to turn on the main lights, so he stood there mostly in shadow, illuminated only by the outside lights from the street and the softer beams of the moon. It made his golden hair shine and his fair skin appear even paler than normal. Leon had always known that Cloud was a beautiful man, but in that moment, he seemed like an ethereal being from the heavens, too perfect to be confined to this dirty, mundane place known as Earth.

Slowly, carefully, so as not to break the spell, Leon advanced on Cloud and gently slipped his arms around the other's waist from behind. Cloud immediately leaned back into him, dropping his hand from the window and shutting his eyes. He sighed softly, sending a little shiver of pleasure up Leon's spine. Encouraged, Leon dipped his head and buried his nose in the short hair at the bottom of Cloud's skull. One hand slipped up the blond's chest to rest at his shoulder, holding him in a more protective, more intimate grip.

Standing there with Cloud in his arms, Leon suddenly felt a flood of memories overtake him. Cloud's body felt exactly the same as he remembered it. The same planes and angles, the same dips and curves, all where they were supposed to be. The scent filling his nose was slightly different - a different shampoo, most likely - but the underlying scent was the same as the one he remembered, the scent that was uniquely Cloud. It, along with the influx of memories, was quickly undoing him, making him feel heady, almost intoxicated.

His eyes had closed without him realizing it. When he opened them again, he found himself looking down at pale, beautiful skin. Cloud had tipped his head slightly to one side, exposing a bit of his neck and the top of his collarbone. The memories within Leon flared at the tempting sight. Hot shocks of burning fire shot through him and snaked their way into his chest and head, filling each with a thick steam. Cloud felt and smelled the same as he remembered, but would he taste the same?

Cloud gasped as Leon's lips descended onto his neck. "Leon …" he breathed, the one word expressing both surprise and worry, but any further protests the blond may have had melted into a soft moan as Leon attacked the sensitive area at the base of his neck. All of Leon's control instantly evaporated at the quiet, breathy sound. Giving in to the desire that was now raging within him, Leon pulled back, spun Cloud around, pushed him up against the wall, and reclaimed the lips he had lost six long years ago.

It was the same, some small coherent part of him marveled. The same touch, the same smell, the same taste, and the same overwhelming feeling as the two of them came together. But the last time he had kissed Cloud like this, he had been a virgin. Kissing and a little bit of touching above the waist was all they had ever done, too nervous and unsure of themselves to do more. _That_ was no longer the same. Leon had experience now; that roadblock of hesitation that kept him from fulfilling all of his desires was long gone.

Leon's hands had started out on Cloud's shoulders, but after spinning the blond around and pushing him back, they quickly moved, one to Cloud's face to support it and the other to his hip to simply rest for the moment. Taken off guard, Cloud had kept his lips closed and his hands to himself at first, but it wasn't long before he relaxed, opening his mouth to Leon and slipping his arms around the brunet's neck to weave his fingers into his hair. As their tongues hungrily explored each other's mouths, Leon's hands began to move. While the one on Cloud's face gently stroked his cheek with its thumb, the one on his hip slowly slid downwards along the outside of his thigh and then, just as slowly, came back up along the front. It never got close enough to the inside of the thigh to be threatening, but the implication was obvious and Leon felt Cloud shudder against him. The fingers in his hair tightened, and the mouth against his pressed more insistently, both actions fueling the fire within him and making it rage even more fiercely.

In one swift movement, Leon circled both of his arms around Cloud's waist and pulled his lower half away from the wall, simultaneously pushing his own body forward. Their heated kiss finally broke as Cloud tipped his head back with a low moan. Leon paused for half a moment, panting shallowly. Cloud was just as aroused as he was; he could feel the proof of it against his body. Spurred on by that knowledge and by the smooth skin that was once again on display before him, Leon resumed his attack, this time latching himself onto the other side of Cloud's neck. One hand held the blond steady while the other slid down his chest and dove under his shirt, exploring the soft skin beneath. Cloud's hands were on his back, alternately stroking him and clutching his shirt, and he continued to gasp and moan softly as Leon kissed and touched him. Eventually, Cloud had had enough and dipped his head to forcefully take Leon's lips back. Leon pushed him back against the wall again and kissed him deeply, now using both hands to touch as much skin as they could.

When Leon ground their hips together a second time, however, Cloud's hands were suddenly and unexpectedly on his shoulders, pushing him away.

"Stop," Cloud gasped. "Leon, stop."

Breathing raggedly, Leon just stared at him. Stop? What the fuck for?

His expression clearly stated what he was thinking, for Cloud swallowed and explained, "I have to know something before this goes any farther: Do you trust me?"

"Trust … ?" Leon echoed, his mind still fogged with lust. "What?"

"Do you trust me?" Cloud repeated, acting far too lucid for Leon's liking. "If you do, ask me to be your boyfriend again. I promise I'll say yes. But …" His hands fell away from Leon's shoulders to hang loosely at his sides. "I lost myself once," he said sadly. "I refuse to do it again. Not again. Not with you."

Slowly, Leon's breathing and heartbeat began to even out. Cloud was staring at him with those clear eyes, his face equal parts seriousness and regret. Leon reached out a hand to touch him, but Cloud calmly stepped away.

"This is just a date," he said, continuing to hold Leon's gaze with his own, "and a _first_ date at that. I'm not a whore, Leon. I never have been. I refuse to be a one-night stand or, even worse, a fuck-buddy. The history that you and I have makes this physically easier, but by the same token, it makes it much harder for me to believe in it. If you want to continue, I need to know that this is more than old feelings and lust. I need to know that I'm special to you, that you trust me again."

Cloud's beautiful eyes were shimmering with emotion, but his face was calm as he finished, "Ask me to be your boyfriend, Leon. I'll say yes, and then you can do anything you want to me and I won't fight it."

For a good minute or more, Leon just stood there, his mind too stunned and too laced with desire to function properly. But then, he shut his eyes and inhaled a slow, calming breath. Cloud's request was more than reasonable, sensible even considering all they had been through. And really, Leon's initial goals had been to reclaim Cloud as his own in all aspects, not just the physical one, so this request easily fit into his own wants and needs.

All he had to do was formally ask Cloud to be his again.

"Cloud, will you - ?"

Memories slammed into him and made him stagger. Cloud had been his boyfriend, and Cloud had betrayed him. Leon had given him all of his love, his trust, and Cloud had sliced them to pieces. Cloud had left him in darkness to suffer and rot and die. Cloud had broken him. Cloud had done that. His boyfriend. _Cloud_.

Desperately, Leon clutched his head with one hand and tried to will away the surging memories and the emotions they brought with them. Logically, he knew that they were not relevant. Cloud's betrayal had been more of a mistake than a conscious malevolent act, and Leon's mind knew that Cloud would not betray him again. His heart, however, clearly still had its doubts. It had suffered too much pain for too long to simply forget and reopen itself to the same one who had torn it apart in the past. Mentally, Leon was ready to ask Cloud back, but his heart was afraid and, at the mere thought of speaking those words, had gone haywire, flooding him with all the negative emotions that he had experienced since Cloud had walked out that door all those years ago.

"Cloud …" he tried again, but this time he couldn't even get out the first word. His heart was screaming, the old wounds suddenly raw and gaping as if they had only just been inflicted. "I …" he stammered, trying to at least say _something_ , "I … I …" Wildly, he spun away, clutched his head in both hands, and roared out his frustration. "I _can't!_ "

A hand touched him on his back, between the shoulder-blades. Leon instantly calmed at the gentle sensation and lifted his head. "It's okay," Cloud's steady voice proclaimed behind him. "I would have been extremely surprised if you could."

Leon bit his lip hard. His body was shaking slightly from the emotional pain and the physical strain of aborted lust. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be," Cloud replied. "If I were you, I wouldn't trust me yet either. That's why I had to know." He paused, and when he spoke again, Leon could hear the smirk in his voice. "No matter how much I wanted you to continue."

A little chuckle bubbled up from Leon's raw, aching chest. "God, I want you so bad," he admitted. "It's been two years since I've had anyone."

Behind him, Cloud laughed. "I've got you beat by a year and a half," he stated, his voice slightly teasing.

Feeling better if not completely recovered, Leon turned his head so that he could see Cloud over his shoulder. "You're kidding," he challenged. "That long?"

"That long," the other confirmed. Then, more sadly, he explained, "I told you I only slept with Aerith because she wanted a child. Once we decided to adopt, there was no reason for us to do it anymore. And I wasn't about to have sex with anyone else. Not when I was married to her. And not …" He faltered, his eyes slipping away. "Not when I couldn't have the one I wanted."

"Cloud …" Leon murmured, turning to him, but Cloud stepped away and wouldn't let Leon touch him.

"I should probably get going," he said, his eyes still averted. "It's getting late, and I don't want Sora and Roxas to worry." He began to move, side-stepping Leon and heading towards the door.

But Leon wasn't about to let him get away now. "Stop," he ordered calmly. "Don't go."

The authoritative tone of Leon's voice stilled Cloud's feet and brought his surprised eyes up to look at him. Smiling softly, Leon closed the distance between them and encircled Cloud with his arms once more.

"Leon," the blond said warningly.

"It may be our first date," Leon explained, "but I'm still allowed to kiss you good-night, right?"

Cloud's eyes searched his face, and Leon waited patiently for the examination to end. When it had, a small smile had settled over Cloud's face, filling Leon with a gentle warmth. "Right," he said.

This time when they kissed, Leon took it slow. Cloud had parted his lips for him again, but Leon ignored the invitation for the moment. Instead, he took the time to appreciate the other man's soft lips, kissing them individually as well as together. And when he finally did slip his tongue into Cloud's waiting mouth, he explored gently, less like a starving man and more like a worshipful pilgrim. Cloud, who had been just as aggressive in the first kiss, understood at once that this time he was to be the object of Leon's adoration. He relaxed entirely into Leon's embrace and followed the other man's lead in everything, using his lips and tongue to welcome and encourage rather than to attack and invade.

As Leon continued to kiss Cloud, he felt his tattered heart begin to knit together and heal. It had taken him a bit of time, but finally he had stopped to listen to the words Cloud had said and to pay attention to the actions Cloud had taken. The other man had wanted to give in to his physical desires just as badly as Leon had, but he had called a stop to it because it undoubtedly would have hurt them at some point down the road. Cloud had put aside his own wants to do what was best. For himself, for Leon, and for the two of them as a couple. Through his actions, Cloud had proven that he possessed a resolve and a strength greater than Leon had ever given him credit for.

They had proven one other thing as well. Leon no longer had any doubt that Cloud loved him. That realization, however, brought with it an unexpected, sobering thought of a different nature. Cloud may have loved Leon, but could Leon still say that he loved Cloud? If he could not trust the other man, if he could not put aside the pain of the past to live with him in the present, he could no longer claim that the emotion he felt for Cloud was love. It resembled love in its depth and intensity, but it was not complete, was not whole. And until it was, Leon knew he would not be able to say the words Cloud needed to hear.

Laughing ruefully, Leon broke the kiss and dropped his head onto Cloud's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" the blond asked him, his hands sliding comfortably up and down his back.

"I just realized I've turned into Vincent."

Cloud's answering laugh shook his shoulders and made Leon's head bounce slightly. "Don't worry about it," he said. "Vincent came around; so will you."

"It took him four years," Leon reminded him bitterly.

"I'll wait."

Those words, spoken immediately and in complete sincerity, forced Leon to lift his head and gaze once more into those hypnotizing oceanic eyes. Cloud gazed steadily back, his expression open and serene. Leon held their connection for as long as he could, but eventually the emotions overwhelmed him and he dipped his head to kiss Cloud once more.

When they finally parted ways, sharing a last lingering kiss in front of Cloud's car, Leon's heart felt full and completely healed. He knew that it wasn't, however. The old wounds were still there, waiting to be reopened just as they had been earlier. It would take quite a bit of time for them to scar over and fade away. For now, though, he could put them aside and enjoy the wonderful feeling of finally having peace within himself.

After he had watched Cloud pull away and disappear down the street, Leon returned to his apartment with a small smile engraved into his lips. He took a quick detour into the kitchen to turn off the untouched coffee maker, then retired to his room to crawl into bed and, eventually, fall asleep.


	25. Kairi

_School is over for the day, and she sighs tiredly to herself as she opens her locker. She places her backpack on the floor and begins to fill it with the books she needs for homework. Algebra. History. Biology._

_A couple of lockers down, an older boy, a junior, slams his own locker open with frustration born from the long day. Another boy leans against the locker next to his and continues their conversation. Having no reason to pay attention to them, she ignores them and continues with her own task._

_But then, the leaning boy speaks to her._

_"Hey, you look familiar."_

_She lifts her head in surprise and stares at him. He is staring back with an expression of contemplation._

_"Where have I seen you before?" he asks himself. Then, the lines on his face clear as realization dawns. "I know! I've seen you with that sophomore. Riku."_

_His friend snorts and pulls his head from his locker to comment, "That's real specific. That guy has whored himself out to half the girls in school."_

_"No, but she's different," the first boy insists, half-turning to the other. "I've seen her with him multiple times." He turns back to her, and she has to swallow a little gasp of surprise and fear. His expression has changed. There is something calculating and hungry within it now._

_"You're his friend, aren't you?" he asks, taking a step closer. "The two of you have things in common. Maybe a lot of things in common."_

_"Hey," the other protests, half-heartedly, "don't be an ass."_

_"So how about it?" the first continues, ignoring his friend. He has closed the distance between them rapidly, and it is still shrinking. "You willing to show me a good time?"_

_"No!" she replies, finally finding her voice. "I'm not like that!"_

_"Really?" he purrs, and in the next instant, he strikes. Before she can pull away or even open her mouth to protest, he has her pushed up against the lockers, her hands on either side of her head, trapped within his firm grip. He leans down and brings his face dangerously close to hers. "Are you sure?" he whispers, his warm breath washing over her face._

_Disgusted and terrified, she turns her head away from him, towards his friend. To her horror, she sees the other boy shrug his shoulders and turn back to his locker. He has no intention of helping her._

_"Get off me!" she cries, struggling against the hold that is much stronger than she is._

_"Don't be like that, princess," her captor chuckles, his tone mocking her. "I bet Riku taught you all kinds of special tricks. I'm just offering you someone to practice them on, that's all."_

_"No, he didn't … I'm not … let go of me!" She is panicking, too paralyzed to just let loose and scream in the hopes that a teacher will hear. He has his body pressed against her now, trapping her so completely that she can barely move. Only a few feet away, his friend shuts the locker and shoulders his backpack, refusing to look at them._

_"Aw, come on," his voice laughs in her ear. "You can't expect me to believe that you spend that much time with a slut like Riku and aren't a slut yourself. Birds of a feather, you know. Now, how about a kiss?" He swoops in._

_A loud crash explodes from her other side, magnified by the metal of surrounding lockers. They reverberate with the force of it and rattle her teeth. Surprised, she turns her head to that side to find a hand splayed out only a few inches from her own. The owner of that hand is standing there very calmly, but his green eyes are cold and deadly._

_"Let her go," he says in a low, dangerous tone._

_Her captor releases her immediately and staggers back several steps. He stammers a few words of explanation and apology but soon simply turns tail and runs. His friend is long gone._

_Her heart still beating wildly in her chest, she turns to the boy beside her whose eyes are now hidden behind his golden hair._

_"Riku …"_

_"Kairi," he whispers, "I'm sorry."_

_He tries to turn away, but she grabs his sleeve before he can escape. Startled, he lifts his head and reveals his eyes to her searching gaze. There is so much guilt in them, such a deep, burning pain, that it momentarily steals away her ability to speak._

_Before she can regain her voice, someone else calls down the hall in a playfully seductive tone._

_"Riku-u-u, are you coming?"_

_He flinches just slightly as he continues to hold her gaze. But then, he is pulling away, and as he turns, she sees it happen. She watches as he changes. His face blanks out like a blackboard being wiped down, and a new expression settles over top. By the time he is walking away, towards the girl in a too short skirt and too much makeup at the end of the hall, she does not have to see his face to know that he is no longer the person she knows and loves. He is someone else, someone fake, someone far away._

_"Oh, Riku," she whispers to his retreating back. She watches him until the two turn the corner, then returns to her locker, fighting the tears that threaten to fall._

xXx

Her French textbook sat open on her desk, but at the moment, Kairi was not focusing on studying her conjugations. Her mind was instead overrun with thoughts of a certain annoying platinum blond and the fact that he had completely avoided her this morning. After not seeing him at all over the holiday break, she had been sure that he would be waiting for her at their traditional spot. But he hadn't, and her subsequent search had failed. She had managed to find Kadaj, but he had been his usual insufferable self and refused to give her any information on his brother's whereabouts. And so she had retreated to homeroom, frustrated and more than a little ticked off, to pretend to study French while planning out how she would get him back later.

She was right in the middle of a particularly pleasant revenge idea, which involved forcing Riku to take her shopping to at least three extremely girly boutiques, when a strong, even voice interrupted her musings.

"Kairi, could you come here a moment?"

Surprised, the requested girl lifted her head from her textbook to meet the eyes of her homeroom teacher. Ms. Trepe stood by the phone that connected their room to the office, her hand still on the receiver that she had just replaced. As usual, a small smile sat upon the woman's face, giving the illusion of invitation and yet betraying nothing of what she was thinking or planning. In contrast to her smile, her eyes gazed pointedly over the top of her glasses, expressing clearly that she expected to be obeyed without question.

Never one to question or disrespect a teacher anyway, Kairi nodded, slipped out of her desk, and crossed the room to her.

"Yes, Ms. Trepe?" she said politely when she stopped.

"Principal Kramer has requested your presence in the office." The instinctual response of mild fear upon being called by the principal must have shown on Kairi's face, for the biology teacher smiled a little and explained, "You are not in trouble. He has a task for you to perform. It will not take long, so you can leave your belongings here."

Quickly regaining her composure, Kairi nodded and replied, "All right. Thank you, Ms. Trepe." Her teacher graced her with a little nod of dismissal and walked back to her desk. Kairi moved to the door of the classroom and opened it, feeling silly and slightly ashamed of herself. She should have known that there was no need to panic. It was only the first day back, after all, and she had done nothing wrong. And considering the fact that she was an excellent student, followed the rules all the time, and participated actively in clubs, Kramer absolutely adored her. She sighed to herself and exited into the hall.

As she shut the door quietly behind her, she noticed that someone else was emerging from a homeroom only a few doors down. Curious, she ran a bit to catch up with him, realizing quickly that it was Pence, another student on the principal's favorite list.

"Pence!"

"Oh, hey Kairi," he greeted upon seeing her. "Did you get called down by Kramer, too?"

"Yeah," she replied, wrinkling her brow in confusion. "I wonder what for."

The boy shrugged in his usual easy way. "Dunno. Guess we need to go find out."

"Yeah, I guess. Come on."

Together, the two students traversed the empty hallways towards the principal's office, chatting idly about their vacations on the way. When they reached their destination, Pence opened and held the door for Kairi who giggled at his overly chivalrous expression but played along, sweeping into the office like a princess at a ball. The secretary looked up as they entered and, after giving them a smile in greeting, motioned with her head that they should continue on into Principal Kramer's office.

Three people waited inside for them: the principal himself and two boys whom Kairi didn't recognize. At their entry and Pence's polite, "Excuse us," the boys turned in their seats to look at them, and Kairi had to hold back a gasp of surprise. The boys, obviously twins now that she could see their faces, had the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Instantly, she understood why Kramer had called them, although why he had asked for both Pence and herself she wasn't sure.

"Ah, come in, come in," the principal insisted, waving his hands at them in his normal absent-minded way. "I'd like to introduce you to two new members of our student body." He nodded warmly at the twins and said, "These gentlemen are Roxas and Sora and they will be joining your graduating class as of today. Boys, these two are Pence and Kairi, members of our Student Council and both excellent students."

"Hi," the one called Sora offered. The other, Roxas, just nodded at them.

"Hi," Pence returned with one of his wide smiles.

"Nice to meet you," Kairi added, offering a smile of her own. Looking at those two sets of blue eyes, she could easily see the nervousness that gripped them. Having moved quite a bit herself as a young child, she understood completely what they were feeling at the moment. Entering a new school was always just a little scary, although she imagined that it was made easier by the presence of a sibling, something she had never been able to experience.

"I would like the two of you to act as guides for Sora and Roxas today," Kramer was continuing. "Walk them to their classes and introduce them to their teachers. Here." He held out two slips of paper to Kairi who stepped forward to take them. "These will let you leave early from and arrive late to class when your schedules differ from theirs. You'll start out in the same homerooms, at least. Sora, you will be in room 302 with Kairi, and Roxas, you will be in room 307 with Pence."

So that was why he had called them both down. The effect of this revelation was cut short, however, when the twins turned to Kramer with identical expressions of surprise.

"We're not in the same homeroom?" Roxas asked, a distinct note of anxiety in his voice. Kairi noticed that he linked his inner hand with Sora's without either of them looking at each other.

"Ah, no," the principal replied, oblivious to the boys' tension. "We received your request that you be placed in the same homeroom, but it wasn't possible this far into the year. Next year, I can make sure you're together, but for now, I'm sorry but this is the best I can do."

Kairi bit her lip as she watched the twins visibly steel themselves to this news. Kramer may have been his normal distracted self and not noticed, but to Kairi, it was clear that these two were very close and unused to being apart. Her heart hurt at their obvious discomfort, but the way they were fighting it impressed her. Carefully, she snuck a glance at Pence and saw from his expression that he was feeling the same.

"Kairi and I will do our absolute best to make both of you feel as welcome as possible," the dark-haired boy said cheerfully. She nodded her agreement and sent both boys a bright smile.

"Excellent!" the principal gushed. "I knew I could count on the two of you. Now, you should all get going. Homeroom will be ending soon."

"Yes, sir," Kairi replied, keeping her sweet smile fixed on her face in spite of the fawning admiration oozing from the adult in front of her. Sometimes, being one of the principal's pets was hard to stomach. Turning to the brunet twin, she invited, "Come on, Sora. You can follow me."

The addressed boy did not obey at first. Instead, he and his brother turned to look at each other, their gazes meeting with a powerful force that took Kairi by surprise. She had heard of twins being able to communicate silently with each other, but this was the first time she had witnessed it. Feeling like an uninvited guest to a private moment, she watched as Sora and Roxas simply looked at each other, giving each other strength and resolve with only their eyes. Then, both sets of eyes closed at the same time, and the boys leaned forward to touch their foreheads together in a brief farewell. A heartbeat later, Sora was on his feet and in front of her, his backpack slung over his shoulder, while Roxas was slowly gathering his things together in preparation to go with Pence.

"Kairi, right?" Sora asked her. When she nodded, he broke out into a dazzling grin. "All right. Let's go!" Like a child on the playground, he took her by the hand and began pulling her out of the room, that bright grin shining back at her from over his shoulder. "I'm really bad with directions," he warned, "so be prepared to show everything to me at least three times."

For a second or two, Kairi could only stare at him, stunned by this boy who had, out of nowhere, changed from one of a co-dependent pair into a being as bright as summer sunshine. But then, she was grinning along with him, increasing her pace so that he wouldn't pull her and swinging their hands together as they walked.

"You got it!" she said. "Just leave it to me. I'll whip you into shape."

Sora laughed, and Kairi laughed right along with him, somehow knowing in her heart that she had just made her second life-long friend.

xXx

By the time lunch rolled around, Kairi wanted to take Sora home and keep him. He was just so cute and sweet and funny in a goofy way. He would have been prime boyfriend material if not for the fact that she wanted to just squeeze him to pieces rather than make out with him. The boy was way too cute for his own good.

However, lunch brought with it a problem, one that had been bothering Kairi for several periods beforehand. Pence had obviously been thinking about it, too; she could tell from the expression on his face as they walked as a foursome towards the cafeteria. There were actually several different ways to solve the problem, but having a variety of choices didn't make finding the best solution any easier.

When the big doors of the cafeteria came into view, Kairi decided they could put off the discussion no longer and stopped walking. The three boys kept going for a few steps, but they soon stopped as well and turned to her. Pence, who knew what was coming, took the few steps back to her to stand by her side.

"Guys," she began, a serious expression on her face, "we need to figure something out before we go to lunch, and I'd rather do it here than in the caf with everyone staring at us."

The twins exchanged confused looks before fixing their blue gazes back on her. "Um, okay," Sora replied. "What's the problem?"

"Kairi's group that she sits with and my group … well …" Pence hesitated, not sure just how much he wanted to reveal. Finally, he settled on, "They don't really get along that well. So we need to decide where we're going to sit, with which group."

Kairi repressed a little sigh. It wasn't that their two _groups_ didn't like each other. No, it was the fact that Hayner hated Riku and had no qualms about letting everyone know just what he thought of the other blond. And Riku, when faced with such blatant hostility, reacted by seeming to channel his older brother Kadaj, sneering and taunting and behaving like an absolute ass. They were such children, the pair of them.

Pence was continuing, "I can come sit with Kairi's group or she can come sit with mine, but, like she said, we should decide before we go in. To avoid any awkwardness."

"Will that be okay?" Roxas questioned, shifting his eyes between the two of them. "For one of you to leave your group and come to the other's?"

"Oh, yeah," Pence smiled, waving a hand dismissively. "No worries. I get along fine with Kairi's group, and everybody _loves_ her." He shot her a grin, making her blush.

Fighting off her embarrassment, Kairi added, "We could also just go to our own groups and let the both of you come with one or the other. We don't both need to be with you all the time."

"That's true," Pence agreed.

It had only been half a day, yet Kairi had already accepted the fact that Sora and Roxas were somehow connected. The way they sometimes moved as if controlled by one mind, the way they held conversations with only their eyes - she still found it amazing, but it no longer surprised her. So when the two of them turned as one towards each other and gazed at each other in silence for several seconds, she simply waited. Beside her, Pence did the same.

Their next words, however, shocked both guides.

"I will go with Kairi," Sora announced.

"And I will go with Pence," Roxas finished.

Kairi jumped a little and threw her hands up in front of her. "Whoa, wait a minute! We didn't mean to split you up! Both of us are just fine with sitting somewhere else."

"It's okay," Sora smiled, coming up to her and taking her hand. She noticed with surprise that Roxas had already snagged the stunned Pence and dragged him away. "This way there doesn't have to be any awkwardness at all, right?" He cocked his head at her and gave her a bright grin.

Kairi melted inside.

"Oh all right," she huffed, pretending to be put out but unable to stop the smile from spreading onto her face. "Come on then."

Because they had paused outside for a few minutes, most of the usual group was already at the table when the two arrived. Sora had met many of them in morning classes, but Kairi took a moment and introduced him all around once more. Tidus and Yuna were together, as usual, with Wakka and Rikku rounding out the sophomores and Paine as the lone female junior. The male junior, Kairi noted with disgust, was once again nowhere to be seen.

Upon seeing Sora, Rikku had all but tackled the brunet boy and forced him to sit down next to her. He hadn't seemed to mind, laughing at her energy like one well used to it and allowing himself to be physically manipulated into a chair. Sighing a little at her friend's antics, Kairi sat down in the seat across from Sora and dug into her bookbag for her lunch.

"Hey, hey, hey," Rikku cried once Sora had settled in and pulled out his own lunch, "did you guys hear what the spring play is going to be this year?" She eagerly scanned the faces at the table, her smile stretching wide across her face.

"I heard somewhere that it was going to be _Medea_ ," Yuna answered.

Tidus laughed. "Yeah, that sounds appropriate for our blood mistress," he commented.

But Rikku shook her head wildly, braids flying. "Nope!" she announced. "Kramer wouldn't allow it. So we're doing _Our Town_!"

General shock followed this statement as nearly every jaw at the table dropped open. "Are you _kidding_ me?" Tidus demanded. "There's no way! That play is terrible! It's just a sappy piece of -"

"Tidus," Yuna admonished him before he could express his true feelings.

"I agree," Paine stated in her cool, calm voice. "While I can see why Kramer would want it, the piece is not at all suited for Larxene. I'm surprised she agreed."

"I was, too," Rikku said, bobbing her head in agreement, "but she did. And Gippal told me she's really excited about it, too."

"Gippal?" Kairi asked, surprised by the mention of the out-going senior. "How does he know?"

Rikku turned her bright green eyes to her friend and answered, "He helps out backstage at Tantalus sometimes. He said she's been wandering around the theater with the script in her hand, muttering to herself."

"Well, that's that, then," Tidus declared, returning to his lunch. "Our beloved Larxene has finally flipped her lid."

Across from him, Wakka snorted in agreement. "She had to, ya? Or she'd never take on something as tame as _Our Town_."

Kairi shrugged, but before she could contribute any more to the conversation, a tray set down gently in the empty seat next to her and a smooth voice commented, "Don't write her off yet. If I know her, she has something devious up her sleeve. We should trust her and believe in her."

Irritation flaring, Kairi turned and glared up at the blond who towered above her, still standing after having placed his food down. "There you are," she snapped. "I've been looking for you all day!"

His green eyes slipped away from her, and he sat down. "Sorry," he murmured.

She huffed, more words of reprimand forming on her tongue. They were cut off, however, by a little happy gasp from across the table. Sora, who had spent the past few minutes listening to a conversation he didn't understand, was now smiling brightly at the boy who had just joined them. Confused, Kairi took a breath to introduce the two of them, but Sora beat her to it.

"Riku!"

Riku smiled slightly, still not raising his eyes for more than a few seconds. "Hi, Sora," he replied.

The annoyance that Kairi felt at Riku for avoiding her quickly changed to surprise and the strangest feeling of mild anxiety as she looked between her friend and her temporary charge. "You two know each other?" she asked.

Riku did not look at her, but Sora did not hesitate to answer. "Yeah," he grinned. "Riku's cousin is an old college friend of my dad's. Leon and Riku both helped us move in a few weeks back." Kairi lifted an eyebrow at that, but before she could question Riku as to why he hadn't called her to help out as well, Sora continued, "I looked for you all morning in the halls, but I never saw you. Guess our paths don't cross when we're between classes."

"No," Riku replied, poking at his food with a cafeteria-supplied spork, "they do. I saw you a couple of times, but you always looked busy so I didn't bother you."

Kairi frowned as her irritation returned. Riku was being really weird. His words were normal, but his tone was full of nervousness and guilt. And he still refused to look at her, hiding his eyes from her with his hair. "You mean, he was always with me, don't you?" she accused, her disgust with him flaring sharply. "And since you've been avoiding me all day, you stayed away."

Her best friend flinched, very slightly but just enough that she saw it. "Maybe," he mumbled.

At the other end of the table, their friends were watching the situation unfold with undisguised interest. "Whuh-oh," Wakka breathed in a fake whisper. "I think there's trouble in paradise, ya?"

Tidus snickered. "You two having a lovers' spat?" he teased, ignoring Yuna when she jabbed his side lightly in reprimand.

"Shut up," Kairi snapped at him. She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her nose in the air slightly to show her disapproval. "It's not like this is the first time I've been mad at him."

"No," Rikku commented, joining in, "but he doesn't usually cower like a kicked puppy like this." She leaned down until her chin was touching the table and tilted her head so that she could look up into the boy's face from below. "Whassa matter, Wiku?" she cooed. "Is Kaiwi bein' a meanie to you?"

"Shut up!" Kairi repeated, shoving a giggling Rikku back into her seat. Some friends she had, making a bad situation even worse. She was just about to turn her frustration onto the table in general when the soft sound of a throat being cleared grabbed her attention. Across from her, Sora was smiling in a classic "I'm going to pretend I'm not interested but really I'm dying of curiosity inside" way.

"Lovers' spat?" he questioned in a light tone. "Are you two dating?"

Riku's head shot up and he cried, "No!" at the same time that Kairi replied, "No way!" The two best friends stared at each other for a beat while their friends stifled sniggers and giggles. Then, Kairi slammed her hand on top of Riku's head and pushed him back down, shouting, "You don't have to be so adamant about it!"

"Well, neither do you!" Riku shouted back, escaping from her grip.

Internally, a small part of Kairi smiled. This was the Riku she was used to. Fiery, stubborn, and strong. The majority of her was still angry at him, though, and getting more pissed by the second. "You're like my brother," she retorted. "I don't do incest."

"And you think I do?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Do you really want me to tickle you until you turn blue in the face?"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, wouldn't I?"

"I'll kill you!"

"I'd like to see you try!"

Properly infuriated now, Kairi was just about to grab Riku's abandoned spork and attack him with it when peals of laughter rang out across the table. Surprised into a momentary truce, both Riku and Kairi paused in their fighting and gazed across the table at Sora who was bent nearly double with the force of his amusement.

"Are … Are they … ?" Gasping for breath, he grabbed Rikku by the shoulder to steady himself and tried again. "Are they always like this?"

"Sometimes," Rikku grinned, sending the pair across the table a quick wink. "They're not always fighting, but when they do, yeah, this is what it's like."

Sora sucked in several breaths and wiped the tears out of his eyes. More calmly, he smiled at Riku and Kairi and declared, "You guys remind me of me and Roxas. Just without the punching and kicking."

To Kairi's surprise, Riku chuckled lightly. "I could never hit her," he confided, picking up his utensil again to return to his food. "She hits me sometimes, though."

"Only when you deserve it," Kairi clarified, although the bitterness and anger had left her. Sora's light had driven it away.

The brunet boy giggled at her comment, and when he spoke again, his eyes shone with something mischievous. "In that case, I'm surprised you're not constantly black and blue, Riku," he teased, making the other boy laugh again. Turning to look down the length of the table, he changed the subject by asking, "What's this about a play?"

Rikku, Yuna, and Tidus quickly took up the task of filling him in on the yearly spring play and its beloved sadistic director, leaving Kairi to finish cooling down from her flare-up. It took her a little while, but when she had, she turned back to her best friend and poked him in the arm until he peeked out under his bangs at her.

"What?" he asked, his tone betraying his continued worry.

"I haven't forgiven you yet," she informed him calmly. "You ditched me all break long and then avoided me all morning. That really made me upset."

"I know," he replied, some of the kicked-puppy look returning to his face. "I'm sorry."

Kairi sighed tiredly. She was so sick of hearing him apologize. If he was so sorry, why didn't he just do something about it instead of continuing on in the same way and saying sorry afterwards? It was a stupid way to behave, lazy, completely beneath a great guy like him. Taking a slow breath, Kairi opened her mouth to tell him all of this, but then her gaze fell on his face and her words died in her throat.

Riku was once again not looking at her, but this time he hadn't succeeded in hiding his eyes behind his hair. She could see them very clearly, and she realized to her surprise that they were fixed firmly on the brunet boy across the table. Stunned into silence, Kairi watched Riku as her best friend watched Sora. There was something different in those green eyes as they took in every movement of the other boy. Riku's gaze was almost always cold, although it warmed for Kairi, but even she had never seen the warmth that shone from his eyes now. It was like she was looking at Riku as a person instead of all the masks that he wore every day. Behind those walls, that person was soft and vulnerable and scared. The emotions that she could see in those eyes were ones that she had never seen in Riku before, not in all the years that she had known him.

And then, as Sora turned back to engage one of them in conversation, she saw it: the change. Like a flip of a switch. Like a lock clicking into place. The mask fell and the emotions were gone. Riku was Riku again.

Confused and worried for reasons she didn't understand, Kairi returned to her lunch and focused on eating her sandwich. For the rest of the period, she wondered about what she had seen and why it had been Sora who had provoked it. Every so often, she would sneak a glance at Riku when he wasn't paying attention, but he didn't let his guard down a second time. Sora provided no answers either; his expressions for Riku were happy and bright, but only slightly moreso than those for the rest of the table. As far as Kairi could tell, she didn't see anything because there was nothing to see.

Still, it bothered her. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something going on that she didn't know about. As the period ended and people began to file out, disposing of their trash as they left, she paused just outside the large doors and looked back at Riku who was standing at their abandoned table, finishing up his conversation with Wakka. Her best friend must have felt her eyes on him, for he glanced her way, their gazes meeting and holding across the room. His eyes were calm and a little cold, but Kairi could have sworn she saw the slightest trace of fear in them, and when they flicked briefly to her right before breaking the stare completely, she knew just who had come up beside her.

"Kairi?" Sora asked, his voice confused and slightly concerned.

"It's nothing," she replied, watching Riku walk away towards the other exit. Turning back to her temporary charge, she gave him a smile and asked, "Shall we get to your next class?"

"Sure," he replied with a matching smile.

They wandered away together, meeting up with Pence and Roxas along the way, but even as they walked, Kairi couldn't stop replaying those brief glances in her mind and wondering about them. Something was going on, something that she didn't know about, and it worried her. It worried her a whole heck of a lot.


	26. Roxas

_Anger. Resentment. Barely contained rage. His small body quivers with the power of it. He stomps down the hall towards the exit, other students scattering before him. The entire population of the middle school has already learned not to approach either of the Strife twins when the other twin is home sick._

_As usual, his violent emotions are directed towards That Man, and in a smaller degree towards The Woman. He hates them both. They don't understand that Sora needs him, even moreso when the brunet is sick. To force him to come to school and leave Sora at home just because he isn't sick as well, an action like that is the worst form of cruelty, to both of them. He'd call social services and report his "parents" for child abuse if he didn't already know that they wouldn't understand either. No one understands them, no one in the entire world._

_The door separating the interior of the school from the grounds slams open and bounces against the wall with the force of his shove. The crashing noise comforts him slightly but not nearly enough to quell the violent emotions raging within him. He is supposed to be in class right now, but he can no longer take the pain from being apart from Sora, can no longer deal with the injustice of it all. Boiling inside with no outlet for release, he stomps his way across the track field, eyes scanning in all directions for an unfortunate stray student upon which to vent his fury._

_By the time he reaches the parking lot of the adjoining high school, he has found no one, so he continues on into the realm of the older students. Perhaps here he will find someone to fight him. It is far more likely now that he will not come out the victor should he engage in battle, but he is too angry to care. Pain of the flesh will be a welcome change to the pain currently residing in his heart._

_Halfway through the semi-maze of empty cars, he hears a voice, deeply threatening and exceedingly smug._

_"There ya are, ya piece of shit. Thought ya were gonna chicken out on me."_

_For one anxious second, he thinks that the unseen owner of the voice is addressing him, but then a second voice responds, this one low, smooth, and obviously bored._

_"I thought about not bothering to show," it drawls lazily. "You're hardly worth my time."_

_"Ya damn punk!" the first snaps back. "I'm gonna mess ya up so bad, yer own mother won't be able ta recognize ya!"_

_"How very original. Figured you were a moron as well as a wuss. Guess I was right."_

_Peeking carefully around a shabby-looking Civic, he finally spots the participants in the upcoming confrontation. They stand two lanes away, a lone teenager against three others. The leader of the group of three is visibly fuming, fists clenched and teeth bared. The other two, presumably seconds in what appears to be an adolescent duel, stand a few paces back and watch, confident sneers on their faces. As for the single fighter, he is very tall and lithe with prominent biceps and a wild mass of red hair covering his eyes and trailing down his neck. He stands with his shoulders slumped, his body language expressing his boredom as clearly as his voice._

_"That's it!" the first one is shouting, raising his fists to chin level. "Let's go!"_

_"Fine," the red-head sighs, and his stance drops into a pose of pre-fight readiness._

_Hidden behind the Civic two lanes away, he watches with wide-eyes at the very short fight. In the space of only a few heartbeats, the angry teen is on the ground, bruised and bleeding, while the cool red-head stands above him untouched._

_"Damn you, Amarant!" one of the seconds growls as the other helps his leader to his feet. "You'll pay for this!"_

_"I truly doubt that," Amarant replies, and then, in a blatant display of confidence and disregard for his opponents, he turns his back on them and walks away._

_From his hiding place behind the line of cars, he watches the high-schoolers separate, the losers picking themselves up and heading back towards the school building, the winner sauntering away from it, towards town. He is breathless for reasons unknown to him, and as his eyes fix unwaveringly on the red-head, something stirs within him. The anger and frustration that he has felt all day is gone; instead, his heart is burning with a new desire, sprung from watching the moves of the older boy. For several long seconds, he hesitates, but just as the tall figure is about to disappear, he decides, sprinting as fast as he can and weaving through cars until they are within hearing distance._

_"Hey!" he cries with all of the force he can muster. "Hey, wait!"_

_Amarant pauses at his young voice and half-turns to see who has called. It is just enough for him to finally reach the tall boy, skidding to a stop before him and practically wheezing from his mad dash across the parking lot._

_"What do you want, kid?" the red-head demands, his eyes hidden behind waves of thick bangs. His voice is as cool and bored as before, obviously not affected by the panting blond before him._

_"I … I saw …" he stammers, trying desperately to catch his breath. "The fight … I saw it … I want … I want to know … how to fight … like that." When the other refuses to react in any way, he lifts his head and gazes at him with confidence. "Teach me," he demands._

_Amarant snorts and turns away, saying nothing. But he will not let him leave. He dashes in front of the tall boy and blocks his way. His gaze turns to a glare as he repeats, "Teach me."_

_The elder pauses, seeming to consider although with his eyes hidden it is hard to tell. "How old are you, kid?" he asks after a moment._

_"Thirteen," he replies promptly. He has regained his breath by now, and he stands proudly before the other. Amarant will not say no; he will not let him. He wants this, more than he has ever wanted anything that did not involve his brother. For the first time in his life, he wants something for himself so strongly that he will fight for it to the last of his strength and then fight for it some more._

_"Thirteen," Amarant echoes. And then the world suddenly consists of nothing but the tall boy's fist. Wildly, he dodges the punch and the next, but the third catches him in his side. He staggers but stays on his feet, blocking the next punch weakly with his arms. Amarant is so fast that he can do nothing but defend, and yet even with his orphanage experience and his natural skills, he is on the ground and helpless within seconds, staring up into the barest glint of blue behind thick red strands as a large hand rests securely around his throat. Even so, he does his best to meet the challenge in those hidden eyes with his own stare and ignore the sinking feeling in his heart._

_Several silent moments pass before the older boy asks quietly, "What's your name?"_

_He swallows as best he can with strong fingers pressing against his throat. "Roxas."_

_"Roxas," Amarant states, "I'm going to kick your ass and then help you up just to kick it again. I'm going to turn every inch of your skin black and blue and still order you to suck it up and give me more. You want a kind, merciful sensei? Look somewhere else. You want someone to show you how to fight clean, dirty, and everything in between? You want someone to teach you how to win? I'll do it, but I'll make you suffer for every victory you achieve. You think you can handle that, kid?"_

_Slowly, a grin creeps across his face as the fire within him roars in anticipation._

_"You bet I can."_

xXx

Roxas's first impression of Hayner was that he was a typical high-school faker trying to be cool by posing as a skater. Then Hayner opened his mouth and Roxas amended it to a _noisy_ typical high-school faker trying to be cool by posing as a skater. Thanks to his less than pleasant childhood and the things he had seen there, Roxas did not care the slightest bit about being cool and had little to no patience for those who did. If not for the fact that Pence had been really nice to him all morning - and the fact that Sora would be pissed at him if he broke his word - he would have ditched that particular lunch table and gone to sit with his brother instead. There would probably be posers and fakers over there as well, but at least he would be with Sora.

However, as the meal progressed, Roxas slowly began to realize that he had been wrong in his initial assumptions. Hayner wasn't fake. He dressed like a skater wanna-be, but he wasn't trying to be something he wasn't. There was no attitude, no posturing. Hayner was simply Hayner, and by the time lunch was ending, Roxas was surprised to find himself talking and laughing with the other blond as if they had been best friends for years. Chemistry Sora would have called it, although from the arm that rested around the pretty Olette's waist, Roxas knew theirs would always be of the platonic kind. Not that it bothered him; two lovey-dovey idiots in their house were enough.

"So Roxas, when do I get to meet this brother of yours?" Hayner asked him, balling up his trash and proceeding to kick it around with his fingers as if playing soccer. "Where is he sitting anyway? With his guide, you said, but who is that? Where are they?"

Roxas repressed a sigh and waited, not bothering to try to answer the question. He knew that someone would redirect the conversation before he could even open his mouth. They had been doing this little dance through the entire meal.

Sure enough, Pence immediately leaned forward and cried urgently, "Roxas! You have history next period, right? Show me your schedule so I can check."

"Don't you have history next period, too, Hayner?" Olette added, equally enthusiastically. "Maybe you two are in the same class."

As Roxas obediently fetched the requested paper, the other blond blinked at his girlfriend for a moment. "Nah, I doubt it," he replied. "Thought Roxas was another brain like the two of you."

Olette's bright eyes shifted to Roxas, silently begging him to make a comment and further bury the forbidden question in distraction. Pence had taken Roxas's schedule and was pretending to read it, but Roxas could feel the tension in the dark-haired boy's body as he too silently sent out his pleas. With a little internal shrug of capitulation, Roxas smiled and told Hayner, "I'm advanced in math and science, but I'm in the average classes for humanities. I can't write an essay to save my life."

"Really?" Hayner laughed, flashing Roxas a wide grin. "Me neither. Here, Pence, let me see that." He snatched the paper away and quickly scanned it before announcing, "We _are_ in the same class! Sweet!"

Next to Roxas, Pence breathed out slowly in obvious relief. Olette's reaction was more subtle, but equally happy. Roxas, on the other hand, was fighting a frown. Over the past half hour, the situation had become extremely clear to him, and he wasn't happy about it. Pence had said before they entered the lunchroom that his group and Kairi's group didn't get along. But Pence's group had turned out to consist of only him, Olette, and Hayner, and since Olette was obviously in on the "don't let Hayner know that Sora is sitting with Kairi" game, clearly the only one who had issues with the other group was the friendly blond sitting across from him. Roxas realized he had only known the other boy for a short period of time, but he had trouble believing that Hayner could hate anyone fiercely enough to cause such panic in his friends. The whole thing made no sense to him, and Roxas hated it when things didn't make sense.

"I'll be right back. Gonna go throw out my trash."

"Okay."

Maybe it was because of Olette. Maybe she had dated someone at Kairi's table and been dumped, so now Hayner, as the current boyfriend, felt it his duty to pick fights with the ex. Or maybe Hayner had been the one who had been dumped and hadn't yet forgiven the other girl in spite of the fact that he had a new one. Or, less likely but still possible, maybe a girl or group of girls at Kairi's table had said something insulting to or about Olette and Hayner was defending her.

"Roxas."

No, there were too many possibilities to settle on one based on the current information. He would have to put pressure on Pence to tell him more, preferably before the next class started.

"Hey! Roxas!"

Startled out of his thoughts, Roxas turned to find a familiar person standing directly next to him and looking mildly annoyed. He quickly recovered himself and, after tossing his trash into the large can that sat next to the wall, smiled politely and greeted, "Hey, Riku. Haven't seen you all day. How are you?"

"Fine," the older boy answered automatically. Then, his voice dropped and he asked in a pseudo-whisper, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," Roxas agreed. "What about?"

Instantly, Riku's demeanor changed. His eyes brightened and began to dart around as if expecting someone to jump out and attack them, and his breathing became rapid and slightly shallow. The combined effect made Roxas raise an eyebrow at him in surprise. He knew that Riku had the tendency to get nervous and self-conscious around Sora - a natural reaction when one was as twitterpated as the junior was with his brother - but at the moment, if he didn't know better, Roxas would have sworn that Riku was borderline _scared_. He certainly looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"Kairi just told me that you're sitting with Pence," he said in a low tone. Then, suddenly, his eyes snapped to focus on Roxas and he blurted with near desperation, "Roxas, I don't know what Hayner said about me, but you have to believe me, it's not as bad as he says. I swear to you, I'm not really like that! So please, don't believe what he says and don't tell -"

"Whoa, hold on!" Roxas ordered, lifting his hands to stop the flow of words from the other boy. Once Riku had calmed down, he lowered them and peered at him appraisingly. "Are you telling me that _you're_ the one that Hayner hates so much?"

Riku's face crumpled into an expression of defeat. "Yeah," he answered quietly.

"Is it just you, or are there others over there he hates?"

"It's just me."

"Why? What did you do to him?" When the older blond did not answer immediately, he decided to test one of his theories. "Are you Olette's ex or something? Did you break her heart?"

"No," Riku replied without thinking, "she and I never …" He trailed off as the implication of the question hit him. Slowly, he raised his eyes and fixed Roxas with an incredulous stare. "You mean you don't know? He didn't tell you?"

"Nope."

"He didn't curse me to Hell and back?"

"Riku," Roxas told him with a suppressed grin, "Hayner didn't know Kairi was Sora's guide. Pence and Olette managed to keep it a secret the whole period. He didn't even know I knew you … until you came up to me, of course."

Much to Roxas's amusement, green eyes opened wide as a deep and overwhelming horror washed over the taller boy in front of him. It was mean of him, he knew, but Roxas had the extremely strong urge to start snickering.

"… _shit_ …"

"Geez, calm down already. I'm not going to -"

" _Hey!_ "

Both blonds turned slightly at the interrupting half-shout to find the third approaching them, his friendly face darkened by a heavy frown. Stomping his way to directly between them, Hayner put his back to Roxas as if to protect him and hissed at Riku, "What are _you_ doing here, Gast?"

To Roxas's surprise, Riku's face instantly transformed yet again. The anxious, slightly shy expression which he had begun to associate with the older boy evaporated, leaving a confident, holier-than-thou attitude in its place. "I'm talking with Roxas," Riku explained, nose lifted into the air just enough to be haughty. "Is there a problem, Hayner? I didn't realize I needed your permission to approach him."

"And what would a stuck-up, rich bastard like you have to say to an ordinary person like Roxas? I thought aristocrats didn't like to dirty their lily-white fingers by mingling with the commoners."

"Hmph. A mutt like you is certainly common enough."

" _What_ did you call me?"

Roxas rolled his eyes. And just like that, the whole situation became clear to him. It was sad, really - he had just lost a bit of respect for both of them - but at least it all made sense now.

Confidently, he stepped out in front of Hayner and inserted himself between the other two. "Okay, knock it off," he ordered, his tone full of a resigned exhaustion. "I've heard enough."

Riku blinked at him in surprise, a little of the snobbery fading, but Hayner just scowled and continued on. "Why are you talking to him?" he demanded. "How do you even _know_ him?"

"Riku is a friend of the family," Roxas explained with a sigh. "His cousin and my dad are good friends."

Hayner hissed a little through his teeth at this information. "Doesn't mean _you_ need to be friends with him," he insisted. "Listen to me, Roxas, you _don't_ want to be seen associating with this guy. The whole school knows about him, about what a slut he is."

Roxas raised an eyebrow. "A slut?" he questioned, shooting Riku a sideways glance. The older boy had shut down his face, throwing a strong blank mask over his expressions. Roxas could see, though, the slightest bit of nervousness leaking through his eyes.

"Yeah," Hayner was answering. "He's slept with over half the girls in school. Some say he's even had some of the teachers."

Roxas sighed again and shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. It really was the same everywhere. It didn't matter the neighborhood, the students, or the quality of the school. It was the same. How many times had he seen this game played out now? How many pretty girls or handsome boys, all with enough money to look good, labeled arrogant, cold, depraved? And how many pretty girls or handsome boys had he seen living up to the rumors spread about them because they didn't know what else to do?

The game was so stupid, and yet it was played everywhere.

"Even teachers, huh?" he finally said, opening his eyes and gazing at Riku. The other boy continued to stare back without expression, but the slight leak in his eyes began to radiate pain as well as anxiety. Roxas flashed him a little smile of reassurance before he morphed it into a smirk and said, "I hope for your sake it was one of the prettier ones. Like Miss Trepe."

The mask cracked and shattered, letting the older blond's shock and disbelief shine through. "You … you mean …" he stammered, "… you mean you … don't believe it?"

"Of course I don't believe it," Roxas replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You're not stupid enough to risk going to jail for some pretty piece of ass, and I doubt any of the teachers here are that stupid either." Hayner opened his mouth to comment further, but Roxas cut him off with a quick slicing motion and a sharp, "Now, look here!" When he had both of their attentions, he stated, "Just because I don't play the game doesn't mean I don't know the rules. I understand what's going on between you two, and I'm not happy about it. However, even though I think it's a stupid waste of time, I respect your right to play the game and I'm not going to stop you. With that said, some ground-rules need to be set down so that we can all get along in the future, and I'm going to be the one making them. Capiche?"

He waited for the dual nods before continuing, "Hayner, you may not like it, but Riku _is_ a friend of the family and he's going to stay one. I don't care if you want to hate him, but for my sake and Sora's and the sake of our family's peace, please don't badmouth him in my presence. I don't plan on spending much time with him anyway, so it shouldn't be too hard. And as for you," he said, turning to Riku with a suddenly hard expression in his eyes, "there is only one thing that you could do that would cause me to utterly despise you, and you already know what it is."

"Yes," Riku whispered in reply. "I do."

"Then, don't do it, and we should be fine. You should also know that if there ever comes a time where I have to choose between you, I'm picking Hayner. And that," he finished, crossing his arms over his chest, "is all I have to say on the matter. Crisis dealt with, case closed." He nodded once, then turned sharply on his heel and began striding away, snagging a stunned Hayner by the elbow as he passed. "See you around, Riku," he called over his shoulder.

A little disbelieving laugh floated to him in response, and then an even quieter voice, full of respect and gratitude.

"See you … Roxas."

xXx

At the end of the day, Roxas met up with Sora at his brother's locker to compare notes, although in truth Sora did most of the talking. Roxas let him chatter on without interruption, simply enjoying his twin's obvious good mood. Kairi had hung out with them for a bit, but she had had to run to catch a bus, leaving the two brothers to leisurely sort through their books and prepare for their trip home.

"Did you hear about this play that they're going to be doing?" Sora asked as he pulled his math text from his locker and shoved it haphazardly into his bag. "I'm thinking about auditioning for it."

"Really?" Roxas replied, grinning. "I didn't know you had any interest in acting, Sora."

"Well, I don't really, but Kairi said it's really fun, and Yuna said that you don't have to have any real acting skills to be in it as an extra, and pretty much everyone in the group is going to audition except for Wakka, so I figured I'd at least try it out."

"Everyone?" Roxas echoed, his grin widening. "Even Riku?"

"Um …" Sora suddenly began having terrible trouble zipping up one of the bag's pockets, so much trouble that his ears were turning red. "Yeah, Riku, too. Kairi said he's a really good actor. He was Dracula last year, did you know? She said he was awesome."

"Hmm, Riku as Dracula," Roxas teased, pretending to toy with a loose thread on one of his backpack straps. "Entrancing girls in lace nighties, being all seductive, biting necks … nope, can't see it." Sora snorted, making him laugh.

"How about you?" his brother asked as he stood up and slung his bag onto his back. "Are you going to try out?"

"Probably not, although I might volunteer for the backstage work. Hayner said he worked on the lights and the microphones last year and it was cool."

"Great! Then we can both be involved. Assuming I get a part, that is."

"Well, if you don't, you can work backstage with me."

"Yeah, I guess -"

"Hey! You two!"

At the brusque, interrupting shout, the twins turned as one to face the trio of students who had approached them without their noticing. The one who had yelled to them stood in the middle, all attitude and muscle, with a dark-skinned male on his right and a pale, fair-haired female on his left. All three stared the two Strifes down with barely-concealed hostility.

"You, you're the new ones, right?" the leader demanded. He crossed his arms over his chest in an obvious attempt to look intimidating. "Pay attention!" he barked. "We three are the Disciplinary Committee at this school. Anyone who steps over the line answers to us."

Roxas narrowed his eyes at this. He had read the Student Handbook thoroughly, and it had made no mention of a Disciplinary Committee. Sora, however, was handling the situation with his usual cheer.

"Okay, thanks!" he smiled at the leader. "We try not to break the rules, but it's good to know that you're here to look out for us. I'm Sora, by the way." He held out his hand for a shake, but the other did not so much as look at it.

"You'd better do more than just try," the sneered response came, "or else you're going to regret it."

Sighing, Sora dropped his hand back to his side and looked at Roxas. Obviously, this guy had taken the brunet's friendliness for weakness and had tried to intimidate him further. Not that Sora was intimidated in the slightest, but this idiot with his over-inflated opinion of himself and his "Disciplinary Committee" hadn't picked up on that.

Which meant that it was Roxas's turn. "And just who are _you_ ," he demanded with a strength equal to the one that had been shown, "to be ordering us around and making threats?"

"He's Seifer, ya know?" the dark one piped up. "He's the strongest guy in the school, ya know?"

"Unbeatable," the girl added in a flat tone, the power in her voice for some reason reminding Roxas of typing in caps-lock.

"Okay," Sora smiled, trying again, "Seifer. It's nice to meet you. But like I said -"

"And who are you?" Seifer demanded of Roxas, clearly judging the blond to be the bigger threat to his regime.

Quickly, Roxas analyzed the older boy in front of him. He wasn't trying to steal their lunch money or stuff them into a locker, but he was still clearly nothing more than a classic bully. The little fan group at his side only emphasized it. Luckily, Roxas knew exactly how to deal with bullies. Teachers and parents and the rest of the adult world could go ahead and talk about communication and compromise and taking the higher road as much as they wanted. Roxas knew that the fastest way to deal with a bully was to take him _down_.

"I'm Roxas," he said with a sneer that matched Seifer's perfectly, "and I'll take you anytime."

Seifer's surprise lasted only a second. Then, narrowed eyes were boring into his own, the challenge crackling between them. "Is that so?" Seifer hissed. "How about right now, you little sh- gggck!"

A pair of pale hands appeared out of nowhere, wrapped tightly around Seifer's head, and pulled backwards as a merry voice cried out, "Guess who!"

Stunned, Roxas lifted his gaze to find a tall platinum blond standing behind his new rival and pretending to play peek-a-boo while effectively dragging Seifer away from Roxas. In one of the few moments where he wasn't dodging the enraged bully's flying fists, the stranger caught Roxas's gaze and winked one of his bright green eyes.

"Bastard!" Seifer roared, managing to finally tear himself away from his playful assailant. He spun on his heel, fists raised, and glared at the other boy.

"Aw, what's the matter, Seify?" the newcomer cooed, mischief turning up the corners of his mouth. "Don't you want to play with me?"

"Kadaj," Seifer growled, lowering his fists slightly. "What the hell do you want?"

"I just told you what I want," Kadaj whined, pretending to pout. "I want to play."

A snarl tore through the bully's throat, but instead of attacking, he turned away. "Play with your own damn friends," he ordered. "Rai, Fuu, we're leaving." His lackeys, who had watched the entire affair without comment or expression, jumped to obey, and they were at his heels in seconds. Seifer began his stately retreat, but before he was out of earshot, he paused and sent a long, meaningful look in the twins' direction.

"Put Roxas on the list," he said lowly; then he turned and walked away.

Sora turned to Roxas with raised eyebrows. "List?"

"Don't ask me."

"I don't know either," Kadaj commented, making both of the Strifes jump from how _normal_ he suddenly sounded, "even though I've been put on it at least ten times by now." He watched the trio retreat for a moment, but then green eyes slid towards them and the corner of his lips curled once more. "Now," he said brightly, turning fully to them, "which one of you is Sora?"

Slowly, the brunet twin lifted one hand into the air. Instantly, Kadaj had tackled him, squeezing so tightly that Roxas was actually momentarily afraid for his brother.

"You're so cute!" the older boy gushed in that strange, too-bright tone he had used before. "Just like a girl. No wonder 'Ku is coo-coo for you." He giggled madly and released Sora so that he could lean in towards the dizzied boy with a finger to his lips. "But I'm not supposed to say that too loud," he mock-whispered. "Right? 'Cause otherwise 'Ku will get mad at me." He sang the last three words like a child and giggled some more.

"Hey, 'Daj!" a voice interrupted from farther down the hall. "You done?"

To Roxas's immense relief, Kadaj instantly sobered, leaning back on his heels to see who had called him. A small smile lit up his features as he recognized the two figures at the end of the hall: a blond with a patch over one eye and a long-haired brunet whose prosthetic arm and leg showed clearly from beneath his gym clothes.

"Yeah," Kadaj called back in his normal voice once more. "I'm done."

"Then get over here, would ya?" the other blond demanded. "Nooj has to change before we can go."

"Coming." He rose to his feet, pausing to ruffle Sora's hair a little. "Take care of yourself," he said quietly as a farewell. A moment later, he and the other two had disappeared.

The silence stretched between the two stunned twins for several minutes. Finally, Roxas broke it with a simple, "So."

"So," Sora agreed.

"That was Riku's older brother."

"I guess it was."

They looked at each other for another heartbeat before Roxas walked away and said, "Good luck with that."

"Hey! Roxas!"

As they were leaving the building, however, Sora couldn't help but comment, "It was kind of nice, though."

"What was?" Roxas asked, holding the door open for him.

"Being rescued like that," Sora explained. "You and I, we've been in so many fights. If you and Seifer had gotten into one, I know you would have been just fine, just like you know I can take care of myself, too. Still, it was kind of nice to have someone think that we needed to be protected."

Roxas snorted. He didn't think it was nice; he thought it was insulting. But he wasn't going to say that to Sora and upset his brother. Instead, he poked the brunet in the side and teased, "You're such a girl."

Sora poked back. "Am not."

Roxas poked him again. "Are too. I bet you were upset that it was Riku's brother and not Riku riding in on his white horse to save you from the bad guy."

"He was saving _you_ ," Sora clarified with a vicious poke. "And if it had been a certain red-head riding in, I doubt you would be objecting quite so much."

Instantly, Roxas's head swam with thoughts of piercing green eyes, that infuriating smile, that lilting laugh. His face flushed. "I _told_ you, I have absolutely _no_ interest in Axel! He's too old, first of all, and secondly, he's a total jerk! There's no way this side of Hell that I -"

"I wasn't talking about Axel," Sora interrupted, gazing at his brother with a curious expression.

Roxas shut his mouth with a snap. "Oh," he said, then hung his head and continued plodding forward without further comment. Sora had been referring to the other red-head he had once crushed on: Amarant. That crush had ended long ago, with the older boy never knowing the strong feelings his student held for him, but Roxas couldn't really blame Sora for bringing it up in this situation. No crush he had had since had been as deep or as strong as the one he had nurtured for the boy with the wild hair and the horrible attitude.

Something deep in Roxas's stomach began to sink as he realized a most disturbing fact. Amarant and Axel were sort of, kind of, in a weird convoluted way … similar. Perhaps, just perhaps, Roxas was the kind of guy who was drawn to older guys who had aggressive personalities, an appreciation for conflict, and crazy red hair. That didn't mean, however, that he was somehow destined to fall for Axel. No way. Some lines he would not cross, no matter how sexy the prize on the other side. He would simply forget about Axel and look for his next red-headed crush, hopefully someone who was a bit younger this time. As for the current red-head, he wouldn't think of him anymore.

"Wait a minute," Sora suddenly piped up. "If you thought I meant Axel, does that mean you've been thinking about him? Do you actually like him? Roxas?"

Roxas sighed and shut his eyes.

"Shut up, Sora."


	27. Riku

_There are grown-ups downstairs. Lots of grown-ups. Wearing fancy clothes and drinking fancy drinks out of fancy glasses. He doesn't care about that, though. Because there is food downstairs. Lots of food. And more importantly, there are sweets. Cake and cookies and little cupcakes with icing and mini-brownies and hard and soft candies. Enough sweets to make him sick for_ **_days_** _._

_He sits on the upstairs landing and peers through the opening between the rails down at big brothers Loss and Yassu. Yassu has their toy spy-thingie that lets you see around corners, and Loss is watching the other way to make sure no grown-ups come by and spot them. Big brother Dadosh wanted to come down and spy, too, but Loss told him that he's too noisy and too little - he and Dadosh hear that_ **_a lot_ ** _\- and that he should just sit and wait for the big boys to come back. So Dadosh is sitting over by the door to Yassu's bedroom, pouting and muttering bad words to himself._

_Finally, after he's counted to twenty at least five times, Loss and Yassu tiptoe back up the stairs and crouch down on the floor with him. Dadosh slides over, too, more interested in filling his tummy than keeping on being mad._

_"The table is pretty far away," Yassu reports with a frown. "We can get part of the way by hiding behind the couch and the rest of the way by hiding underneath the table with the meats on it, but there's a big open space between the couch and the table where someone might see us."_

_Loss shakes his head and asks, "What about my idea of nice-looking ladies who might give something to the babies because they're cute?"_

_Dadosh punches him in the shoulder. "Don't call me a baby!" he hisses a little too loudly._

_"Shhh!" Yassu warns him quickly. To Loss who is starting to whine over being hit, he orders, "Don't cry." Then, he answers, "I saw a couple, but none were close enough to the door. If we're too far in, we risk being seen by Father."_

_"Where was he?" Dadosh asks._

_"By the fireplace mostly, but he's moving around a lot."_

_All three of his big brothers sigh, and he looks at them in innocent confusion. "So does that mean," he asks in a small voice, "no sweets?"_

_"It means," Yassu explains with a sad face, "that we can try to get the sweets, but there's a good chance that one or all of us will get caught. And if we get caught …" He doesn't finish, but all four of them cringe in fright. They all know what will happen if they get caught._

_And then, someone is laughing. A quiet chuckling noise in a low voice. "Of course," it says softly. "The fear of getting caught."_

_Instantly, all four boys are on their feet and trying to escape to their bedrooms, but the voice commands, "Don't run," in such a strong, no-nonsense tone that their legs freeze. He is scared, very scared, but he is also curious. The voice had not sounded like Father's. Carefully, he turns his head a little and tries to see to the bottom of the stairs._

_As he thought, it is not Father, but the grown-up gazing up at them is still extremely scary. His long hair is white like Pop-pop's, but he doesn't have any wrinkles. It's weird, and it makes him look like a villain from a Saturday morning cartoon. Just like a villain should, he is looking up at them with a stern face, not smiling, sending chills down little spines. Everything about this strange man is frightening, but the scariest part has to be the big X on his forehead, directly between his pale eyes. It's ugly and unreal and draws all the boys' eyes directly to it, keeping them rooted as if hypnotized._

_"It's interesting," the grown-up says, still in that quiet, low voice. "It's not the knowledge of right and wrong that is making you hesitate. It's not a sense of morality or the desire to rise above temptation. Nor is it the wish to please your father, to excel at being a good and proper child. No, you still wish whole-heartedly to stray, to give in to temptation, and you_ **_would_ ** _if not for that one simple fear. The fear of being caught."_

_The grown-up's voice is a kind of spell, making his head swim with the big words and the steady purr. He knows he should look away, but he can't. His knees are trembling and his tummy feels sick from the terror, but he can't seem to stop looking at that ugly X, can't seem to make his feet run away. Around him, his big brothers are shaking and Loss is whimpering again, but none of them are moving. The scary man has them all trapped with only his eyes and his voice._

_"It's very interesting," he says again. His eyes slowly pass over each one of them, inspecting them, and then the scary grown-up with the old-man hair and the young-man face who looks like a villain and speaks like a snake-charmer does something even worse. He smiles._

_Dadosh squeaks like a mouse. Loss begins to cry._

_"Ah, here you are, Saїx," a different voice says, and a second grown-up wanders into the hall, carrying a plate. This man also has white hair and a young face, but his hair is shorter and he doesn't have any letters on his forehead. He offers the plate to the first man, saying, "Here, although why you asked for so many desserts, I don't understand."_

_The first man, Saїx, says nothing and instead continues to keep the boys pinned in place. After a few seconds, the new grown-up follows his gaze and notices the four on the landing. "Oh," he says, smiling a little. "I see now. I should have known you would be here scaring Seph's sons."_

_"I'm not scaring them, Xemnas," the scary man replies, taking the offered plate without looking at it. "I'm corrupting them." He holds the plate up so that the boys can see it. It is overflowing with cookies, cupcakes, brownies, and candies of all shapes and colors._

_"How very like you," Xemnas comments, turning back towards the room with all the fancy grown-ups and their fancy food. "I'll leave you to it then," he says as he walks away._

_Saїx's smile widens a little, but it is no longer scary. The X is still ugly, but his legs are no longer trembling and his tummy is no longer sick. Instead, it is starting to rumble as he stares at all the treats sitting on that one plate. Loss has stopped crying, and he guesses that his big brothers are all now watching the plate as well, daring to feel a little bit of hope._

_Four pairs of green eyes watching his every move, Saїx bends down and carefully places the plate on one of the steps. After he has straightened up again, his pale eyes travel slowly over the boys a second time, and his quiet voice says, "It's so much easier to indulge your little immoralities when there is no fear of getting caught. Isn't it, children of Sephiroth?"_

_He swallows but can't say anything. The words this man uses are too big and confusing, and he's too excited by the thought of cookies and candy to think of anything to say. It's okay, though, since the man doesn't seem to want a response. He has already taken a step back from the stairs, and now he is turning towards the room as if to follow his friend._

_"Thank you," Yassu manages to whisper just before Saїx disappears. The grown-up pauses but says nothing, only smiles and walks away._

_Seconds later, they are in Loss's bedroom, diving into their treats with unrestrained joy._

xXx

Half a day later, Riku still couldn't believe it. Hayner had waved Riku's reputation directly in front of Roxas's face, and Roxas had _rejected_ it as untrue. Without a word from the junior in defense or denial, the sophomore had proclaimed it absurd - although to be fair, that bit about the teachers was rather ridiculous - and declared the matter closed. It was more than the stressed blond could ask for, far more than what he felt he deserved.

Exhaling shakily, Riku closed his locker and took a moment to shut his eyes and merely exist. It had been such a long, terrible, terrifying day. All day he had been expecting someone, somewhere, to let something slip to one or both of the twins about Riku's promiscuity. Every time he walked the halls between classes, he waited for Roxas to jump out and beat him up or for Sora to appear in a rage, or worse in tears, and declare that it was over. There was just no way he was going to be able to get through the day with his secret relationship with Sora still intact, especially not after lunch when he learned that the two Strifes had been given the _worst_ guides possible.

And yet he had, and even more surprising, Roxas had voluntarily removed himself from the situation, for whatever unknown reason believing the rumors about Riku to be only that. Riku honestly didn't know how to react. It was just too good to be true.

"I don't deserve this," he whispered to himself as students chattered and lockers slammed. "Any of it. I don't deserve _him_. Not after I … I …" A sudden threat of tears made him bite his lip hard and bend down for his backpack. That's just what he needed, to have the rumors start flying because he had been seen crying in the hallways. Great idea, that.

Feeling mildly disgusted with himself, Riku shouldered his backpack and set off in search of Kadaj.

He swung by Nooj's locker first since it was the closest. Kadaj's locker was next on the route, but he only gave it half a glance. His brother and friends never hung out there if they could help it because it was too close to Kramer's office for comfort. At Baralai's locker, Riku found no Kadaj but he did find the locker's quiet owner who passed him a notebook to give to his brother with the senior's thanks. Baralai also gave Riku the rather important tidbit of information that Nooj had had gym final period, so rather than try Gippal's locker, he decided to look there instead. Sure enough, as he rounded the corner of the hallway, Riku could see the figures of the three friends farther down the hall. From where the blond stood, it looked like Kadaj was attempting to get a piggy-back ride from his brunet friend while Nooj was trying to maintain his dignity and Gippal was laughing his ass off.

Riku sighed tiredly. Walking around half the school looking for his brother had worn him out and completely destroyed the euphoric feeling he had been experiencing before. As a result, he really didn't feel like dealing with the mess at the other end of the hall. Instead, he lifted his head, took a deep breath, and hollered, "Kadaj! Hurry the hell up!"

The three seniors turned to him, as did several other students lingering in the hallways. "Whuh-oh," Gippal sniggered at his friend. "Your baby brother's yelling at you, 'Daj. That's embarrassing, man."

"Somehow, I don't think Kadaj knows the meaning of the word 'mortification'," Nooj commented calmly. He redoubled his efforts to pry Kadaj off of him and, once he had finally succeeded, flung the blond's hands off of his neck. Kadaj tumbled backwards to the floor in a mess of long legs and laughter.

"Nope," he agreed to Nooj's statement, grinning widely, "not a clue."

At the other end of the hall, Riku sighed again and turned away. "I'll be in the car," he announced resignedly.

"Ah, 'Ku! Wait for me!"

"See you tomorrow, 'Daj!"

"Don't kill yourself before then."

"I'll do my best!"

Riku didn't bother to stop or slow down to wait for Kadaj. He knew his brother would catch up to him when he felt like it. Sure enough, by the time he was pushing the door open to the parking lot, Kadaj was one step behind him, catching the heavy door with a hand to the glass above Riku's head before it could close. Once they were both outside, Riku smacked the older blond in the chest with the notebook he had been given.

"Baralai says thanks."

Kadaj took it with a nod and kept walking. Now that he was no longer with his friends, the older boy had reverted to his quiet, slightly sullen state. Riku was fine with that. He was feeling a little sullen, too, after the stress of the day, and the last thing he wanted to deal with was Kadaj in one of his hyper modes.

The two brothers walked to their shared car in complete silence, neither one acknowledging the other's existence. As per their pre-established arrangement, Kadaj slipped into the driver's seat while Riku took the passenger side. While the older brother started up the car and the much-needed heat, the younger buckled his seatbelt and then proceeded to stare out the window in a mildly depressed daze. The clouds in the winter sky matched his mood perfectly. They were gray and thick and completely covered the sun, giving the sky a stark, blank look. Riku let his mind empty out as he stared at them, slowly losing track of time and himself. There was only the purr of the car's engine, the slight burn of forced-air heat on his face and legs, and the gray nothingness of that thick blanket of clouds.

"Riku."

Riku jumped, Kadaj's voice hitting him like a bucket of cold water to the face. As awareness of his surroundings flooded back into him, he suddenly realized that the car had not moved. They were still in the school's lot, still parked in the same space. Confused, he turned to his brother. Kadaj was sitting eerily still, staring out the window with one arm propped up against the door and the other resting in his lap. The lack of movement from his energetic brother set off several mental alarms in Riku's head, and even more began to sound at the memory of the serious tone in which the older boy had said his name.

"Yeah?" Riku finally responded.

"I met him," Kadaj stated quietly and without emotion.

Riku's lips moved to form the question "Who?" but before he could breathe in the needed air, he realized the answer. Sora. His brother had met _Sora_. A sharp slice of panic tore through him, making him choke. Fighting through the resulting coughing fit, he demanded, "When? Where? _How?_ "

"Just now," Kadaj answered, unconcerned, "in the hallway." He turned his head just enough to gaze out at Riku from the corner of his eye. "Seifer was giving him a hard time, so I stepped in."

Internally, Riku stamped down hard on his racing heart. "Oh," he said and forced himself to turn towards the dashboard. "Thanks." He had felt on the verge of a heart attack at the thought of all the things his brother could have done or said to his boyfriend, but his panic was subsiding at this news. Seifer and his gang were less than nothing to the Gast boys, but Riku doubted Sora had any fighting experience or even the will to hurt someone else. He would have been a prime target for the bully and his goons. If Kadaj had really saved Sora from trouble, Riku definitely owed him one.

The older blond had turned back to the window, waving one hand in dismissal of the younger's gratitude. In that same flat tone he had used before, he commented, "He's cute."

Riku swallowed. He didn't know what to say. Kadaj almost never acted like this, and when he did, it was never good. "Yeah," he forced out.

"An innocent kind of cute," the older boy continued. "The kind that has a good heart, a pure heart."

"Yeah, he does."

And then, out of nowhere, Kadaj's eyes were on him full-force, burning with small bursts of green flame. "Dump him," he ordered. "Dump him _now_."

Riku stared at him, open-mouthed, unable to say anything for a good thirty seconds. When he had recovered from his shock enough to speak, he cried, "What? Are you crazy? _Why?_ "

"Because you are Riku Gast, that's why!" Kadaj replied, lips turning up in the beginnings of a sneer. "People like Sora are for the long term. They want actual relationships with commitment and growth. You and I, we don't do relationships; we don't do long term. We take what we want and we move on. There's absolutely no emotional commitment involved."

Anger began to churn and build within Riku's chest. Teeth bared, he shot back, "You may not do relationships, but I'm tired of being so fucking superficial. I'm ready for a long term commitment. It's what I want!"

"Is that so?" Kadaj asked, his voice beginning to rise into its normal airy playfulness. "You want it, but do you really think you can get it? Have you told your loverboy yet that you're a walking venereal disease?"

Riku lunged forward, only to be stopped by his seatbelt. "Bastard!" he hissed. "You _know_ I'm clean! I always use protection, and I get tested regularly."

"Well, that's true," his brother replied, pretending to think. "Although, really, I wonder how many sixteen-year-olds there are in this school who get tested regularly for STDs. I wonder how many have had so many different partners that getting tested is necessary." Frowning heavily, he dropped the act and returned to burning holes in Riku with his eyes. "You and I are lifelong sinners, Riku. We lie and we scheme, and we hide in the darkness so that no one will find us. Trying for a relationship with a pure-hearted person like Sora isn't just stupid. It's suicide. All you're going to do is get the both of you seriously hurt."

Riku wilted, shoulders sagging and head drooping. He knew in his heart that Kadaj was right. During vacation when he had been courting Sora, he had had the freedom to be himself without the burdens that the rest of his life brought along. But now, the weight of his past sat firmly on his shoulders, and he had to deal with the daily responsibilities of interacting with his peers. If Sora weren't right there in the middle of it, he would be able to lead such a double life easily, but that wasn't the case. Sora was going to be here, in the midst of Riku's self-made darkness, unknowingly exposing himself to all of Riku's deceptions. He could try to unravel that web, to crawl out of the darkness and into the light, but how long would that take and would he be able to keep Sora long enough to make it worthwhile? If he were being honest with himself, he would have to say that his chances weren't all that good.

"Dump him, Riku," Kadaj said softly from the driver's seat. "Before it's too late. Before you fall for him."

His brother's tone was so gentle, so kind. Riku didn't think he had ever heard Kadaj speak like that before. It made his chest tighten and his eyes prickle with threatening tears. He exhaled a shuddering breath and replied, simply, "It's too late."

" _Fuck_ ," Kadaj whispered. He fell back into his seat and covered his eyes with a hand. The other hand fisted and slammed down onto the steering wheel. "Fuck," Kadaj repeated after a moment.

Riku smiled a little at him from behind the curtain of his hair. "What's with that, 'Daj?" he asked lightly, not trying to disguise the emotions that had hijacked his voice. "You're acting like you care about me."

"I do care about you, you dumbass," his brother replied. The hand covering his eyes dropped to his lap, and he gave the younger boy a small smile of his own. "You're my baby brother, and I promised Grandma Ifalna that I'd protect you."

"When was that?"

"After I nearly beat you to death with a fire truck." When Riku started laughing, his smile grew a little and he added, "You're lucky it was a plastic truck. If it had been one of those metal ones, I could have given you brain damage."

"And how old were you when you did this?"

"I don't know. Five? Maybe six."

Riku shook his head in amusement, but he stilled when he felt long fingers in his hair. Looking over at his brother, he saw that gentleness again, that kindness that looked familiar on Yazoo but so bizarre on Kadaj. "It's too late?" he asked. "Really?"

"Yeah," Riku answered solemnly. "I love him."

Kadaj sighed and pulled his hand from Riku's head, letting the long strands of hair slide softly through his fingers. He turned back to the steering wheel and finally grasped the gear shift. "I guess all I can do then is wish you luck," he said as he put the car in reverse and disengaged the parking brake. "If you need me, I'll be here."

"Thanks, 'Daj," Riku smiled as the car began to roll backwards.

Kadaj didn't reply.

xXx

Kissing Sora was like a drug. There was no other way to describe it. The moment Riku _thought_ about it, he started to ache. If they were in the same room together, the ache became more of a longing, and if they were within touching distance, it became an actual need. All week he had fought it bravely, occasionally indulging in little accidental brushes of skin contact but not doing anything more obvious for fear of being noticed. Now that it was Friday afternoon, he was ready to burst. He had been a good boy on the way to Sora's house and had even hung out in the kitchen for a little bit to have a snack and chat with Roxas. However, the moment he stepped into Sora's room and Sora shut the door behind him, he snapped.

Truthfully, who could blame him?

"Riku!" Sora gasped when the older boy let go of his lips long enough for him to do anything more than catch a quick breath. "The doorknob!"

"Sorry," Riku replied. He moved Sora's body two inches to the left and dove in again. Laughter bubbled up in Sora's throat, but it quickly faded under the power of Riku's onslaught, turning into little rumbles of pleasure that made Riku's head spin.

It truly was the most amazing thing in the world. Kissing Sora, just _kissing_ him, was more pleasurable and more satisfying than any of the sex he had had in the past two years. He felt so warm inside, like his heart was glowing, and the longer they kissed, the more the feeling grew and spread until it was tingling all the way down to his toes. He didn't have to ask to know that Sora felt the same way because everywhere their bodies touched - their hands, their chests, their hips - he could feel the light within him mingling with the light from Sora, intertwining their souls in the most intimate of ways.

Desperate to touch and taste as much of Sora as he could, Riku left the brunet's mouth and began to kiss his way down Sora's neck. "Riku …" his boyfriend breathed as he found a soft spot along the collarbone. Carefully, gently, Riku captured that spot with his lips and sucked lightly on it. Sora sighed deeply and arched up into him.

Riku's heart stuttered. In that brief moment when Sora's body had brushed against his, he had felt it. Sora was getting hard. Riku was, too, but that was to be expected when one was making out with one's boyfriend. He had fully intended to just ignore it. But feeling Sora's arousal sparked something within him and turned that warm glow into something hotter. His mind disengaged just slightly from the kissing and began to think about Sora, about ways to please Sora, about how to satisfy Sora. His hands began to move.

"Riku," Sora sighed again as Riku's hands slipped beneath his shirt and began to trace lightly over his skin. Abandoning Sora's neck for now, Riku lifted his head and reclaimed Sora's lips, drinking in the small moans that arose from the younger boy's throat. His hands moved around to the front, one skirting over Sora's stomach while the other rose high enough to brush over a nipple. Sora gasped into Riku's mouth at the sensation, and the older boy swallowed it down just as eagerly as he had all the other wonderful sounds.

Slowly but surely, Riku's mind was fogging up and shutting down. A small voice of rationality was telling him that he was damn lucky to be able to steal second base and he'd be a fool to try for anything more this early in the game, but that voice was steadily getting weaker and farther away. Riku's thought processes were giving way to the physical high of being so close to the one he loved. Everything was being reduced to pure _feeling_. The feel of Sora's body against his, the warmth inside of him, the rapidly-growing tension in his lower body, the beat of his heart against his chest. His hands were moving of their own accord now, touching, exploring, pleasuring. He was being swept away and he didn't care. His whole world was Sora and only Sora.

And then, he went too far. The second he crossed that line, he knew he had done it. His hand had wandered too low, had brushed gently against the zipper of Sora's pants, and his boyfriend had instantly stiffened from head to toe. Riku immediately brought the offending hand back up and tried to soothe away Sora's discomfort with soft kisses, but the damage had been done. Sora did not relax, his participation in the kisses all but stopped, and within moments, Riku had given up and pulled away.

"Sorry," he whispered, eyes lowered, head bowed. "I didn't mean to …"

"No, I'm sorry," Sora quickly assured him. "It's just that I …" He turned his head away as his cheeks began to turn red. "This is all so new to me," he admitted with a little self-deprecating laugh. "I've never done any of this before, you know? I'm just kind of … nervous. I guess." His face flared even more as he added, "Bet you think I'm some kind of wuss."

"No!" Riku replied immediately, head snapping up to gaze at Sora in earnest denial. "I don't think that at all! It's perfectly natural to be nervous. And if you are, I want you to tell me. I don't …" He took a breath to calm himself and placed his hands gently on Sora's shoulders. "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or awkward around me, and I never want you to let me push you into doing something you don't want to do."

Sora eased forward until he was in Riku's arms and slid his own arms around the taller boy's waist. "Thanks, Riku," he murmured against his boyfriend's shoulder. "I'm sorry I'm not as experienced as you are."

Fear washed over Riku in a cold wave, freezing his lungs. Had Sora found out? Who had told him? Roxas? Someone else? But Sora was still here, so did that mean Sora was okay with it or like his twin did he just not believe it? Using every last drop of self-control he had to keep his voice steady, Riku asked, "What do you mean?"

Sora laughed a little, obviously unaware of the panic that flooded his boyfriend's veins. "Well, I'm assuming, I know, but surely a guy as gorgeous as you are has had some experience. More than I have at least. I mean, I hadn't even been on a date before I met you. You're my first relationship ever."

Riku swallowed with difficulty. So Sora didn't know. What should he do? Admit that, yes, he had some experience? What if Sora wanted to know how much and with whom? But if he told the brunet an outright lie, that would make it all the worse if and when Sora finally found out otherwise. His whole life up until now had been nothing but lies and he was sick of it, but telling the truth was such a risk. Somewhere in his heart, he knew that he was going to lose Sora eventually, but if he told the truth, that eventually would almost certainly become right now. And he was far too afraid of the pain to take the chance that his sweet innocent boyfriend would understand.

Sora shifted in his arms. "Riku?" he asked, his voice betraying his uncertainty at the continued silence. "I'm right, aren't I? You've had lots of relationships before me. Right?"

Relationships. Riku's breath caught. Sora had just given him a way out, a loophole. Yes, Riku had slept with so many people that he had lost track, but he had never had a _relationship_ with any of them.

"Actually, Sora," he heard himself saying, "you're my first, too."

Bright blue eyes gazed up at him in disbelief and the tiniest, most heart-wrenching bit of hope. "No way! You're kidding!" Sora smiled, and Riku almost broke at the sight of the relief and pride shining in his face. "You can't seriously tell me that you've never done this before."

It hurt. Dear God, it hurt _so much_ , but Sora had done it again. This. What was "this"? It was too vague. It left too many ways for Riku to interpret it, too many escape routes for him to take. Ever kissed someone? Not a boy. Ever touched someone's skin and chest? Again, not a boy. Ever fallen so deeply in love with someone that you feel you just may die if they ever leave you? Never. Not with anyone.

He just couldn't stop himself. "I've never done this before."

It wasn't a lie. It was a half truth, an intentional misinterpretation. He could justify it, defend himself if necessary. But it was still a sin. He could feel it down to his bones. He had just sinned against Sora. He had sinned against this beautiful pure heart who was even now leaning up to kiss him again. He just didn't have the courage to do otherwise. He was a coward, a worthless being who didn't deserve to be loved by the angel in his arms but who couldn't help wanting to squeeze out every last second with him that he could until the inevitable, terrible end.

_Forgive me, Sora_ , he begged within his mind as he poured his heart and soul into kissing the boy he loved. _Please. Please forgive me._


	28. Cloud

_It is past midnight on a Tuesday/Wednesday, and he doesn't care. His mother is going to skin him alive when he gets home, and he doesn't care about that either. His prior responsibilities are completely unimportant now, not even registering on his mental list of things to think about. At the moment, all he cares about is the food on the table, the drink in his hand, and the friends on all sides._

_"A toast!" Zack cries, lifting his Coke into the air. "Here's to finally being seniors!"_

_He smirks at his best friend's dramatics and raises his own glass slightly. "Here's to AP Physics and Calc BC," he counters._

_Zack predictably quails. "Ugh, Cloud, how could you?" he demands, smile falling into a pouting frown. His drink hits the table again with a clunk. "Way to spoil the mood, man."_

_"How about we drink to SAT scores and college applications?"_

_"Dear God, what are you trying to do? Kill me?"_

_His smirk only widens. Teasing Zack is always so very entertaining, but he doesn't do it much. Only on special occasions like tonight. Next to him, Tifa laughs her bright, cheerful laugh and lifts her milkshake so that it taps lightly against the side of his soda. "I'll give you a toast," she offers with a broad smile. "Here's to summer."_

_Across from her, Aerith lifts her water high. "To summer," she echoes with a sweet smile. Zack immediately perks back up, and, since he has kept his glass aloft this entire time, Tifa's proposed toast is quickly approved and enacted._

_Once the drinks return to the table, he and Zack proceed to attack the cheese fries before them. Aerith watches thoughtfully for a moment, her head resting on her boyfriend's shoulder. She is such a calming presence for their group, so gentle and serene. Yet she can be devious in her own way, a fact of which he is reminded when she comments, "This year we need to work on getting Cloud a girlfriend."_

_His head snaps up in surprise and annoyance. He has no desire for anyone to assist him with his love life. However, before he can make his preferences clear, Tifa eagerly adds, "Or a boyfriend."_

_Aerith frowns lightly at the other's suggestion. "A girl would be better," she insists. "Cloud needs someone to take care of him. An older woman would be ideal, but since he's already a senior, we'll have to make do."_

_"A guy can take care of him, too," Tifa argues, leaning over the table slightly for emphasis. "Girls aren't the only ones who know how to be patient and responsible."_

_"Well, yes, but he would have so much less trouble with a girlfriend. You know, socially."_

_Groaning in a mixture of embarrassment and horror, he drops his head into his hands. He can't believe his two best girl friends are arguing over the gender of the person they're going to set him up with. "Why did I decide to share my orientation with the two of you?" he asks despairingly. "Why?"_

_Tifa smiles at him and pats him on the head like he's her pet. "Because we're your friends, of course," she answers. "Now just sit there like a good boy and let us plan out your future, okay?"_

_Across from him, Zack is trying hard not to make his sniggers too obvious. "You know," he says, "you could always just go out with Tifa and save yourself all this headache."_

_"No thanks," he and the girl next to him reply at the same time. Turning, he catches her eye, and they both smile. He loves Tifa, but he will never consent to being her boyfriend. It would be a first-class disaster._

_Zack snorts at them. "See? That's exactly why I think you two should get together. You finish each other's sentences, you fight like you've been married for years, and sometimes I swear you share the same brain. I don't see why you keep fighting it."_

_While Tifa rolls her eyes and sips her milkshake, Aerith snuggles up to her boyfriend and kisses him lightly on the cheek. "Give it up, dear," she advises. "If they ever did get together, Tifa would drive Cloud insane, and she would end up strangling him. It's better for everyone's sakes that they stay just friends."_

_Zack looks to him to see if he is going to refute this, but he keeps on picking at the fries and doesn't even bother to make eye contact. "Well, fine," the dark-haired boy concedes. "If you say so, sweetheart." He drapes his arm around his girl and pulls her closer. As an apparent afterthought, he asks, "Since the girls are set on fixing you up this year, how about we set up Teef?"_

_He snorts in response. "I rather like my internal organs where they are, thank you very much."_

_Aerith laughs brightly while Tifa elbows him hard in the ribs. Zack chuckles and shakes his head. He just smiles._

_Moments like these are what he lives for. At home, his mother is controlling and overprotective. His father is long gone, having divorced his mother when he was barely old enough to speak. At school, he has few friends. The teachers like him well enough, but he doesn't ever stand out, doesn't really catch anyone's notice. It is only in times like these, with Zack and Aerith and Tifa, that he feels like he's worth something, like he belongs._

_The girls are chatting again and this time Zack is inserting his own opinions and suggestions. As he watches them, his heart begins to fill with an uncharacteristic warmth and softness. Before he fully realizes what he is doing, his hand has grasped his drink again and is lifting it into the air._

_"I have a toast for you, Zack," he interrupts. When all three sets of eyes are gazing at him, he presents his glass and says, "To friendship."_

_Zack beams at him as he snatches his own drink and raises it. "To friendship!" he agrees._

_"Friendship," Tifa echoes, adding her glass to the waiting group, her pretty face lit up with a bright smile._

_"May it last forever," Aerith finishes, and her soft words sound like a prayer. He appreciates her addition, but he knows they don't need it. Their hearts are connected and always will be._

_The four glasses meet in the center of the table, gently ringing out into tomorrow._

xXx

The shelter was extremely noisy what with dogs barking non-stop and the occasional meow or hiss. Cloud had expected that. He had also expected the smell, a mixture of animal stench and the cleaning products that the staff had used to keep the odors under control. What he hadn't expected and what had confused him enough to be blinking at his sons like a half-wit, was how quickly Sora and Roxas had chosen their new pet and the result of that extremely fast search.

"Are you sure?" he asked them yet again.

"We're sure!" Sora chirped. He dropped down onto his knees and wrapped his arms around the neck of a fully-grown golden retriever. At his touch, the dog turned her head and tried to lick Sora's ear. "Isn't she beautiful?" the boy asked, his eyes shining with happiness. "Her name is Destiny."

"She's four years old," Roxas explained for their father's benefit. "One of her back legs broke when she was still a puppy and it didn't heal right, so she has some trouble walking. She's also rather skittish around people although she took to Sora right away."

"That doesn't surprise me at all," Cloud commented, smiling down at his brunet son. "Still, I would have sworn that you two would pick a puppy." He ran his eyes over the dog's back legs, trying to gauge which one had been injured and how badly. "If she can't walk well, she won't be able to run around with you guys and play ball or frisbee. You're all right with that?"

Destiny was attempting to wash a laughing Sora's face with her tongue, so Roxas answered for the both of them. "Yeah, we're fine with it." His hand dropped onto the dog's head and rubbed the fur gently. "The puppies were really cute, but they'll all get picked up by someone else. Destiny, though …" His blue eyes softened and he gazed down at the dog who was now licking the hand trying to pet her. "As soon as Sora and I saw her, we knew we wanted her. We know what it feels like to be overlooked and left behind."

A quiet ache began to grow in Cloud's chest as he nodded in understanding. Yes, he knew well just how deeply his boys could relate to the pain of being unwanted and the joy of finally being chosen. "All right then," he said. "If she's the one you want, she's the one we'll take home."

"Thanks, Dad!" the twins chorused as he turned towards the lobby. Cloud paused to send them a smile, but they had already gone back to fussing over their new pet. Shaking his head fondly at them, he resumed his journey to the front desk and the paperwork that awaited him there.

Once they had all returned home, Sora and Roxas spent the rest of the day showing the dog around the house and backyard, encouraging her to sniff everything and get used to her new surroundings. They also took her on no fewer than three walks, the last of which made them late for dinner, much to Cloud's displeasure. He punished them by giving them clean-up duties while he retired to the family room to watch the news. To Sora's and Roxas's joint dismay and in spite of all their attempts to get her to stay in the kitchen, Destiny followed Cloud and flopped down onto the floor at his feet in a furry lump.

"Tired you out, did they?" Cloud asked her kindly as he flipped on the set with the remote. When the dog answered with a single thump of her tail, he smiled and encouraged, "Don't worry. You'll get used to it."

Destiny gazed at him with doubtful eyes as if to say she'd believe it when she saw it. Then, she shut her eyes and promptly fell asleep.

Perhaps twenty minutes later, Sora poked his head into the family room and announced, "Clean up is all done, Dad."

"Good," Cloud replied, not taking his eyes from the hockey scores. "Go start your homework."

"Whaaat?" Sora predictably whined. "Can't we do it tomorrow?"

"No. Tomorrow you'll want to play with the dog again. Do it now while she's sleeping."

Sora grumbled but didn't argue further, and a few minutes later, Cloud heard two pairs of sullen footsteps trudging up the stairs. He smirked a little at the thought of their scowling faces. When he had been their age, he had always wondered if parents derived some sort of sick satisfaction from knowing that their kids were being forced to do something they didn't want to do. Now that he was a parent, he knew that they most certainly did.

A quiet hour passed where Cloud watched the television and the dog slept, twitching occasionally but otherwise remaining still. As surprised as he had been at the twins' choice, he was quite glad that they had picked an older, calmer dog rather than a wiggly, hyper puppy who would have been all over him by this point. He didn't really want to admit it, but having Destiny's warmth on his feet was oddly soothing, like she was meant to be there. He certainly hadn't thought that there was something missing from his life, but now it almost felt as if a hole had been filled that Cloud hadn't even known existed.

Thankfully, the phone rang before he could get _too_ sappy.

He grabbed at the receiver without looking and lifted it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Cloud?" a familiar deep voice greeted. "It's Leon."

A little flash of excitement shot through him like a rocket. "Oh, hey Leon," he said, successfully keeping his voice casual. "What's up?"

"Not much," Leon replied easily. "Just felt like talking to you."

"Ah, so you missed the sound of my voice, did you?"

The other man chuckled at his teasing, low vibrations that made Cloud shiver. "You found me out," Leon joked. "Can't hide anything from you."

Smiling, Cloud settled more comfortably into the couch and let himself relax. Ever since their date, he had thought often of Leon, frequently having to consciously stop himself when the timing wasn't appropriate. Sometimes it made him feel like a teenage girl with a crush, but as embarrassing as that was, he couldn't really help himself. The man had looked so good that night, being in his presence had felt so comfortable, and nothing compared to how amazing it felt to have that body against his as they kissed and touched with an abandon better suited to kids almost half their age.

"How was your week?" he asked after making sure he had his imagination firmly under control.

The question produced a low sound of pain from the man on the other end of the line. "Terrible," he answered. "Demyx got sick, the computer crashed and lost a large stack of orders that I had just inputted so I had to input them all again, one of my shipments was wrong and another one was late. It was just … if something could have gone wrong, it did. One of _those_ weeks."

"Sounds fantastic."

"No kidding." Leon paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, there was something teasing in his voice. "In fact, it was so awful that I figured I was owed a reward for getting through it. Something along the lines of a second date with you."

Cloud smirked with satisfaction, but before he could reply, his seat was suddenly shaking and dipping under the weight of a golden retriever who had decided that the couch looked like the place to be. "No!" he said sharply, momentarily forgetting about Leon on the other end of the phone. "Get down! You are _not_ allowed on the couch."

Destiny paused in her climb to look at him with calm brown eyes. Clearly, she did not see why he was allowed on the couch and she was not. After all, there was plenty of room, and the cushions looked comfortable.

"Down!" Cloud repeated, now using his free hand for emphasis. "Destiny, down!"

The dog gazed at him for another moment to see if he would possibly consider changing his mind; then, she slowly slid off of the couch and padded over to sit on his foot. She plopped her large head down in his lap and stared up at him with an expression designed to soften him up and make him feel guilty.

"And don't bother looking at me like that. It won't work."

Destiny quirked an eyebrow at him as if to say that it most certainly would work if given enough time, and as far as that was concerned, she was a very patient dog.

"I'm telling you you're wasting your time. You are not allowed on the couch, not now, not ever." When those brown eyes didn't waver in the slightest, he sighed and leaned back. "Fine. Stare at me. I am not going to change my mind." He had unconsciously moved the phone a bit away as he yelled at Destiny, so now he returned it to its proper place and apologized, "Sorry, Leon. I had to take a moment and discipline the dog."

Silence greeted him for about ten seconds; then Leon audibly exhaled, tacking on a small laugh at the end. "I see," he said with a smile in his tone. "I had pegged you as a strict parent, but for a moment there, I was worried that you were going a bit overboard, to make the boys sit on the floor."

Cloud cringed, very glad that Leon couldn't see his reddening face. "No, I'm not quite that crazy," he tried to joke. "I let them sit on the couch. After they've been properly sanitized of course." Leon's answering laughter soothed his nerves and brought the smile back to his face.

"So, you have a dog now?"

"Yeah. She's a late Christmas gift for the boys."

"What breed?"

"Golden retriever."

"Good breed."

"I guess." Cloud glanced down at the furry head resting in his lap. Destiny was still staring at him with those big eyes. Quickly, he looked away. "Anyway, I believe you mentioned something about a date?"

Leon chuckled again. "I did."

"The weekend's half over already. Were you thinking tomorrow night?"

"No, I'm busy tomorrow," Leon replied. "I was thinking of inviting you out to lunch sometime next week."

Cloud frowned, heart sinking a little. "Sorry, I can't. I have a deadline on Thursday, and we're really behind. I've already warned everyone that they'll have to work through lunch all next week."

"Oh." The voice on the phone had quieted but remained hopeful as it asked, "What about Friday then?"

"Well, I could but …" Cloud stopped himself and, with a grimace of resignation, shook his head. "No, I shouldn't. If we don't actually make the deadline, I'll need Friday to finish up. Making plans for lunch on that day would be a bad idea." He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Leon. I'd really like to, but I just can't this week."

"Hn."

Blue eyes widened at that one small sound, the sound of Leon closing himself off and shutting everyone out. Gripping the phone a little tighter, Cloud tried to stop it by suggesting, "How about next weekend or the week after? We could do lunch like you said or something else on Friday night or Saturday."

For several tense moments, Leon did not reply, but then he spoke and Cloud knew he had been too late. "No, that's all right. I'd rather not."

"Are you sure?" he insisted, sounding desperate even to himself. "I'd really like to see you."

"I'm sure. I need to go. I'll talk to you later, Cloud."

Cloud grit his teeth, fighting the urge to scream. "Yeah, all right," he somehow managed to say. "Talk to you later." The click of Leon hanging up sounded in his ear almost before he finished speaking. Terribly discouraged, Cloud settled the receiver into its cradle and rested a hand over his closed eyes.

What the hell had just happened? Had Leon really pitched a fit and given up on them just because Cloud couldn't commit to a date next week? What did the man expect? For him to be completely free all the time? For him to drop all of his responsibilities or tear apart his schedule based on Leon's whim? They were adults, dammit! Adults who worked, who had paying jobs, and Cloud at least had a family that depended on that money. What was so freaking unreasonable about asking to postpone or reschedule a date?

And yet, in a way, Cloud kind of understood what Leon was feeling. Their relationship was still very new, they had a history that was less than pleasant, and Leon still had doubts, so many that he couldn't yet commit to anything more than "dating". He had only Cloud's word as to why his proposal had been refused, and in the past, trusting Cloud had brought nothing but heartbreak. For all Leon knew, Cloud could be using work as an excuse to blow him off.

A small groan escaped him as he massaged his temples with his middle finger and thumb. "Leon," he whispered, "what is it going to take to get you to believe that I love you more than anyone else?"

Something wet and cold bumped into him mid-thigh. Cracking open an eye, he looked down to find Destiny gazing back up at him intently. Some time during his conversation with Leon, Cloud had apparently let his other hand fall onto the dog's head and had begun petting her in an unconscious attempt to comfort himself. Destiny had clearly just inquired as to why the pleasant ear-scratching had stopped. Her questioning expression was so simple and gentle that Cloud couldn't help but smile.

"Don't get any ideas," he warned her half-heartedly as he began to stroke and scratch her again. "You belong to Sora and Roxas. You are absolutely not going to become my dog."

Destiny simply settled her head back into his lap and thumped her tail a couple of times. Even without words, her response was perfectly clear and as oddly comforting to Cloud as her presence.

_That's what you think._

xXx

Fanart by [DuetMaoim](http://duetmaoim.deviantart.com/)

xXx

Without a doubt, the best of Cid's three drafters was Jessie. She was smart, fast, and meticulous. She knew her way around a shop drawing and could do things in CAD that Cloud hadn't known CAD could do. She usually didn't need much direction, if any, and she wasn't shy or hesitant about asking for help when she did need it. In fact, the only downside to working with Jessie as far as Cloud was concerned was the fact that she seemed to have an extremely strong and persistent crush on him.

She was very professional about it, but Cloud wasn't blind. The way she smiled at him, the accidental or unnecessary touches, how she would ask two or three times a day if Cloud had anything he wanted her to do. He had tried to discourage her by dropping the occasional comment about his dead wife and playing the part of the still-grieving entirely-unavailable widower, but she had refused to be deterred. She was still in his office every day with a cheerful "Good morning" and the blatant hope that today he would notice her.

On Wednesday around lunchtime, she was there again, going over some marks she had made to a drawing and standing much closer than was necessary.

"Strife! You in?" Xigbar's voice barked just before the man himself poked his head into the office. "Ah, there you are," he grinned. "Come with me, kid. I'm taking you out."

"Out?" Cloud echoed, surprised. "Out where?"

His boss scoffed at him as if the answer were obvious. "Out to lunch, of course," he replied. To Jessie, he added, "You too, girl. I'm taking the whole office. So come on, get your coats, and let's go."

As Jessie happily moved to obey, Cloud jumped out of his chair to stop Xigbar before the man could disappear.

"Wait a minute!" he called. "I can't go out. My deadline is tomorrow." He gestured helplessly at the piles of drawings and notes on his desk.

At Cloud's resistance, Xigbar sighed and reentered the doorway, fully this time. He crossed his arms over his chest and regarded the younger man patiently with his good eye. "Yeah, I know," he said, "but I also know that one extra hour isn't going to kill you. You and the others have been working yourselves ragged, and you need a break. I'm giving it to you. Besides," he added when Cloud remained unconvinced, "we've never given you a proper welcome to the company. Consider this your unofficial acceptance into the family."

"Come on, Cloud," Jessie encouraged with a smile. "It's just lunch. You have to eat anyway, right?"

"Yes, but …" He trailed off and focused on his desk, letting the other two think he was still worried about the deadline. His true anxieties, however, stemmed from a more personal cause. If he was going to lose this precious hour anyway, he would have preferred to have spent it on a date with Leon. Since he had already said no to that, he really didn't feel like saying yes to this. But if it was really a lunch in his honor, a way to welcome him to the company, then he supposed that he couldn't really refuse.

"All right. I'll come."

"Good," Xigbar grinned at him. "Get your coat and meet me out front." Before Cloud could reply, he had disappeared back into the main area of the office and begun announcing the lunch break to everyone else. Jessie flashed him a brilliant smile before exiting as well, leaving Cloud alone to unhook his jacket from the back of the door and slowly put it on.

Outside of his office, the daily snipe-fest between Xigbar and Cid had begun.

"Cid, I'm taking the kids out and feeding them. You're paying."

"Like hell I am. Watts, if you give Xig the company credit card, you're fired."

"Too late. I snatched it already. Why don't you come with us? On second thought, don't. You'll just glare at everyone until they order water and cheap salads."

"Damn straight. Do you have any idea how expensive things are these days?"

"How can I forget when you remind me on a daily basis, you cheap bastard?"

Smiling to himself, Cloud turned out the lights in his office and gently closed the door. Perhaps he did need a break after all.

The restaurant Xigbar chose was a typical family-style place that had cheap sandwiches and served breakfast all day long. He had managed to get almost everyone in the office to come along, so the staff had to push together several tables to get them all to fit. In spite of the large number of people there, Jessie managed to obtain the seat directly next to Cloud, causing him to repress a resigned sigh as he opened his menu and perused the selection. It seemed the girl had no intention of giving up on him. He would have to call Tifa later and ask for advice.

Once food had been ordered and conversations had started, Cloud allowed himself to relax and have fun. He griped about the local hockey team with Biggs, answered a ton of questions about his education and his previous job from Watts, and even endured a less-than-traditional toast from Xigbar which ended with the memorable words, "Congrats on not dying yet. Keep it up." Jessie would flirt with him occasionally, but she kept it to acceptable levels and didn't try to touch him under the table or take advantage of her proximity to him in any other way. All in all, Cloud had to admit that he was enjoying himself, and he was quite glad that Xigbar had suggested this group stress reliever.

Or he was, up until Biggs cleared his throat and said, "Hey, Strife. There's a guy over there at another table who I swear has been staring at you for, like, ten minutes."

Cloud looked up at him in surprise. "Really?" he asked. "He's looking at _me_?"

"I think he is," Biggs answered, his gaze shifting to over Cloud's shoulder. "I mean, he could be checking Jess out, but … no, I'm pretty sure it's you he's looking at."

Cloud frowned at this, but an ingrained sense of politeness, installed by his mother, kept him from immediately turning around to see for himself. Watts, however, had no such sense of propriety and a curiosity too fierce to tame. Turning in his seat on the other side of Jessie, the amiable secretary cast his eyes about the restaurant until he had found the man Biggs had indicated.

"Oh, I know him!" Watts declared, slightly shocked. "I went to high school with him. Let's see, the name was …" He scratched at his head in an effort to remember. "Lei … no, Lee … no, no, … ah!" A smile exploded onto his face as the name finally came to him. "Leonhart! That's it! Squall Leonhart."

Cloud nearly had a heart attack on the spot. As it was, he spun around so fast that his chair scraped noisily against the floor. To his utter horror, he found himself staring at a pair of stormy gray eyes from only a few tables away, eyes that narrowed accusingly when Jessie leaned over and laid a hand on his arm.

"Cloud, are you okay?"

"I …"

Leon's angry eyes flashed once, and then the man was on his feet, digging in his wallet for a few bills which he threw onto the table. His companion, whom Cloud recognized from the Christmas party as Irvine, attempted to stop him, but Leon threw off his grasping hand and began striding forcefully towards the front door.

"Oh _shit._ " Cloud was out of his seat in seconds, nearly knocking it over in his haste to catch up to the other man before he could leave. Some part of his brain registered the shocked and concerned voices of his co-workers, but he ignored them all. Keeping his eyes fixed on the retreating brunet's back, he weaved through the tables on instinct, walking as quickly as he could without actually running. Leon had made it to the check-out register but had not yet begun to reach for the doors when Cloud finally got close enough to take him by the shoulder.

"Leon!"

Slowly, the other man turned to him, eyes hard and expression stony. Cloud just stared back, temporarily unable to think of anything to say. He had dashed across the restaurant without thought, knowing only that he had to stop Leon before he left, but now that he had succeeded, he had no idea where to go next. He had a pretty good idea of what Leon was thinking right now, but it was hard to tell for sure when dealing with that blank face and those cold eyes.

Carefully, Cloud uncurled his fingers from Leon's shoulder and let his arm fall to his side. He straightened his back just slightly and kept his gaze level as he said, "My project manager decided to take us all out. To give us a break and to welcome me to the company."

Leon's face remained unchanged. "I see," he said flatly.

"I didn't want to come because my deadline is still tomorrow and I'm nowhere near ready, but I also didn't want to be the one to ruin it for everyone else." He paused a second for emphasis before adding, "I didn't lie to you."

That gray gaze flicked slightly towards the tables, then returned to lock with Cloud's once again. "Who's the girl?"

Cloud blinked in surprise. "You mean Jessie?" he asked. "She's just a coworker."

"Seemed like more," Leon stated, his eyes narrowing. The slightest bit of emotion had finally seeped into his face, and Cloud was shocked to see that it looked like jealousy. Leon must have seen all the little ways that Jessie had been flirting with him, noticed that the blond had not discouraged her, and drawn his own conclusion.

"She's not more," Cloud insisted. "She has a crush on me, but so far it's been manageable so I just ignore her." He noted with frustration that the jealousy in Leon's face had only increased at the word "crush". Lifting a hand, Cloud rubbed at his eyes and sighed. "What do you want me to do, Leon?" he asked tiredly. "What do I have to do before you'll believe me?"

Leon did not reply. For a minute, the two of them just stood there in silence; then, Cloud got an idea and he dropped his hand to stare steadily at the man he loved.

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

The other man blinked and took an instinctive step backwards. "What?" he asked.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" Cloud repeated, his voice and gaze steady. "Right here in public. In front of my immediate boss and all of my co-workers. Will that convince you that I love you and only you?"

The ice in Leon's expression was melting fast, leaving behind obvious confusion and a trace of anxiety. "Cloud …"

"I'll do it," Cloud cut him off. "Just say the word and I'll out myself in front of everyone here. If that's what it takes to reassure you, to prove to you that I'm not off cheating on you every time I can't rush to your side or end up spending time with someone else, then I'll do it. Right here. Right now."

He wasn't exactly sure where he was getting the balls to make this ultimatum, but at the moment, all that mattered was that he had found them somehow. Leon had to understand that he had no reason to ever be nervous or jealous. Cloud may not have been able to drop everything at Leon's slightest request, but that didn't mean that Leon wasn't extremely important to him. It didn't mean that Cloud didn't deeply and desperately love him.

Tired of waiting for Leon to say something, Cloud took a step forward, fully intending to go through with the threatened kiss. Before he could, however, Leon grabbed him by both shoulders and pushed him away to a safe distance. They both froze for a heartbeat, shocked gray staring into determined blue; then Leon lowered his gaze and hung his head.

"Don't … You can't do this. Not for me."

"You're the only one I'd even consider doing it for."

Another couple of heartbeats passed before Leon whispered, "I'm sorry."

Cloud smiled a little. "Accepted," he replied, less harshly than before. Then, he added, "Call me later. You owe me a lunch date next week."

Half a smile flickered over Leon's face. Instead of responding, he removed his hands from Cloud's shoulders and began moving back to his own table. Cloud watched him go, waiting until he had sat down next to a waiting Irvine before starting his trip back to his own table and his certainly curious co-workers. He smirked at the thought of their questions and the frustration that would be on their faces when he refused to tell them anything. They would never know just how close they had come to being witness to an unexpected and probably explosive show. Better for all of them that they stay in the dark.

_Although_ , he thought as he pulled out his chair and resettled himself at the table, _maybe I should have done it after all. At the very least, it would have gotten Jessie off of my back._


	29. Leon

_He stands, propped up against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. The bass beat of the music is so loud that he can feel it pulsing up through the floor and into his legs. The darkened room in front of him is one giant mass of twisting, writhing bodies. A few minutes earlier, Cloud disappeared into that living jungle in search of drinks. He waits patiently, knowing that it may be some time before his boyfriend returns._

_From the outskirts of the dance floor, a girl turns in his direction and catches his eye. She smiles at him prettily and, in spite of the fact that he has not returned the gesture, is soon closing the distance between them._

_"Hi."_

_He does not respond._

_"You're really cute. Would you like to dance?"_

_Nothing. Not even an acknowledgement that he has heard her._

_"It's okay with me if you're not very good. It's just fun to have fun with someone else, you know?"_

_He glances down at her, wondering why she is still here. Her smile is still present, extending all the way to her dark eyes. She really is rather pretty although, he decides with a little private smirk, not nearly as pretty as Cloud._

_The small twitch of his lips must have encouraged her, for she places her hand on his arm and pulls gently. "Come on. Let's go dance."_

_"Excuse me."_

_Cloud is standing behind her, a soda in each hand and a large frown on his face. His smirk widens at the sight._

_The girl has turned a little, blinking in surprise at Cloud who asks in a flat tone, "Can I help you with something?"_

_Clearly, she has missed the sarcasm in that question and the anger in those blue eyes because the smile returns at once. "Are you his friend?" she asks eagerly. "Can you help me convince him to dance with me for just one song at least?"_

_He nearly laughs at Cloud's short, "No."_

_The girl is taken aback by this. "Why not?" she demands._

_"Because he's taken."_

_"Oh." Her smile finally falls all the way. "Oh I see." She turns to him with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry. I should have known. A guy as gorgeous as you couldn't possibly be single, right?" When he doesn't answer, she sighs and turns to Cloud. "And you're probably taken, too, for the same reason. Although, really, I prefer brunets to blonds."_

_"So does he," he says with a killer smirk, finally breaking his silence. Cloud just glares at him._

_Finally, the girl understands. Her pretty eyes widen dramatically, and a manicured hand lifts to cover her mouth. And then, the smile is back, half-hidden behind her hand as her eyes twinkle and shine. "I'm so sorry to have bothered you," she says, sounding sincere. A moment later, she is gone, swallowed up by the moving wall of bodies with only a final smile to remember her by._

_Cloud waits until she has vanished before he hands over the extra soda._

_"Thanks."_

_His boyfriend just grunts, settling next to him against the wall, still looking pissed. A minute passes and another. Then:_

_"Cloud?"_

_"What?"_

_"I must admit that while your jealousy is completely unfounded to the point of being ridiculous, I find it rather cute."_

_"I wasn't jealous!"_

_He makes a non-committal sound and sips his drink. Between their bodies, their hands inch closer to each other, and as they brush, two sets of fingers intertwine and hold. It is a long time before either one lets go._

xXx

Leon all but threw the phone down, pitching forward to catch his head in his hands. What the hell was wrong with him? It wasn't like Cloud had done or asked for anything unreasonable. He was busy next week; Leon could understand that. He had been busy enough himself the past few days. So why then? Why was he feeling betrayed? Why did it hurt _so much_?

Maybe because the timing was just so awful. This week really had been wretched. He had definitely been looking forward to spending some time with Cloud to cheer himself up and calm himself down. Hearing that the other man couldn't make it was that final twist of the thumbscrew that broke him and made him just fall to pieces. It was childish of him to think such things, but he couldn't help feeling that it wasn't fair. He didn't deserve this much shit being thrown on him at once.

Sighing, Leon rose from the couch and wandered over towards the window. It was a lovely clear night out, and he could see all the stars without trouble. Gazing at them from the warmth of his apartment, Leon felt his stress draining away and his mind blanking out. He was still disappointed, but for the moment at least, he would be okay.

Minutes passed, and slowly, Leon's thoughts turned to Cloud. Cloud liked to stand by windows; he remembered that now. He frequently had found his then-boyfriend staring through the glass out at the night sky, a peaceful expression on his beautiful face. The younger Leon had never asked why, had never asked what the other young man had been thinking about to look like that. Perhaps, now that they were older, now that they were starting over, he would ask. Cloud certainly hadn't given up the habit; twice now, the blond had stood here, in this very spot, and cast his eyes outside and heavenward. And the last time he had done it, Leon had come up behind him and taken him in his arms.

Leon felt the temperature of the room rise slightly as the memories slipped back into his mind and body. Immediately, he tried to push them away and maintain his calm, but they persisted. Within seconds, he was back in that moment when he had temporarily regained all that he had lost. He could hear Cloud's irregular breaths and feel the warmth of his skin against his fingertips. If he concentrated, he could just barely taste the blond on his tongue. The memories were wonderful and yet terrible at the same time. As much as Leon wanted to believe in love and a happy future, he simply couldn't set aside six years of trying and failing to forget. Now that Cloud was back in his life, the chains that bound Leon's heart had only strengthened, and he knew now that he would never be completely free of them.

"Cloud," he whispered aloud to the stars, "I am utterly lost in you, and I've never been so terrified in my life."

Behind him, a door creaked open, disrupting his thoughts. Leon turned sharply and stared at the entrance to the back hallway, expecting a follow-up to the noise. Sure enough, a moment later Demyx shuffled and coughed his way into the room, dragging part of the blanket he had wrapped around himself along behind him. The blond looked absolutely terrible - eyes and nose red and runny, body hunched in obvious pain, movements slow and unsteady. He staggered across the room towards the kitchen, not noticing the silent brunet by the window.

Leon watched him struggle for a moment before deciding to make his presence, and his disapproval, known. "What are you doing out of bed?" he demanded.

Demyx startled, looking all around him for the source of the voice. When he finally found Leon, he lifted a shaky hand and pointed towards the kitchen. "Wanted tea," he rasped.

"And you didn't use the bell I gave you because … ?"

The sick blond flinched a little in shame. "Thought you were busy," he replied, refusing to meet Leon's gaze. "Didn't want to bother you."

"I'd rather be bothered than have you get germs all over the kitchen." When Demyx just nodded sadly, Leon sighed and softened his tone considerably. "Sit down. Rest. I'll bring you the tea."

Demyx nodded again and moved towards the couch while Leon walked into the kitchen and dug out the kettle.

A few minutes later, Leon gently placed a steaming mug of tea into Demyx's waiting hands and sat down in a chair near him with a mug of his own. His roommate thanked him with as bright a smile as he could manage in the circumstances and proceeded to inhale the steam greedily. Sipping at his own drink, Leon watched the younger man like a hawk and waited for the time when he could order him back to bed. The brunet's parental instincts didn't kick in often, but when they did, they kicked in _hard_.

"Did the Castle shipment finally arrive?" Demyx asked after a few minutes of sipping. The tea had smoothed out his voice quite a bit, but his sinuses were still clogged.

"Yes," Leon answered. "Late Friday afternoon. I haven't had time to check them yet."

His employee smiled wryly at him. "Let's hope they at least know how to read an order form." He dug a tissue out of one pocket of his robe to blow his nose, then extracted a partially-filled ziploc from the other pocket to put it in. Once he had finished and picked his tea back up again, he commented, "If the books are in, I need to get well fast."

"Why is that?"

"Because that shipment should have the book Zexion ordered," Demyx smiled, "and I want to be there when he picks it up." At Leon's questioning eyebrow lift, he explained, "I'm trying to get him to open up and be my friend."

Leon snorted. Somehow, he just couldn't see Professor Vexen's anti-social assistant opening up to anyone. "I see. Good luck."

"Thanks."

Silence fell for a minute or two as Demyx went back to nursing his tea. It looked as if he was getting low, and Leon was just about to suggest he go back to bed when the blond lifted his head again with an odd brightness in his eyes.

"So Leon," he said in a terrible attempt to be casual, "you know how I asked you to go to the … um … the post office for me? I was wondering if you had … well … you know … gone."

Internally, Leon sighed. He had been hoping this would wait until tomorrow, until after Demyx had had a good night's rest. "I did," he replied.

"Oh! You did?" The younger man seemed stunned to hear an answer in the affirmative. "Well, did you … I mean, was there anything? You know. For me?"

"There was."

A smile spread over Demyx's face, but it faltered a bit as the blond finally began to take in Leon's closed-off expression and bearing. "Can I have it?" he asked meekly. "Please?"

Leon shut his eyes and resisted the urge to massage his forehead. He really didn't like this penpal thing Demyx had going with a man who had once stalked him and, for all they knew, probably still did. But it really wasn't any of his business. So far, the man had done nothing wrong, and Demyx was an adult after all.

"Hold on," he instructed, rising from his chair. He crossed to the front door and the table that sat beside it where he had tossed the mail as he had come in. Sitting on the top of the pile was a simple white envelope with Demyx's name neatly printed on it. Leon picked it up and examined it for a minute, looking for anything suspicious. When he could find nothing, he walked back to his chair and handed the envelope to Demyx.

"Thank you," his roommate said softly.

"Do you have _any_ idea who this guy could be?" Leon asked roughly, towering over the smaller man.

"Not really," Demyx admitted. He cradled the letter against his chest and added, "We have so many regular customers. Even when I weed out the girls and the ones that are too old or already taken, I still don't know who it could be." He looked up at his boss with a small grin. "It doesn't help that all the smart people in town tend to gravitate to your store, you know."

Leon ignored the compliment. Instead, he leaned down and picked up Demyx's empty mug. "Go back to bed," he ordered.

"I will," the blond smiled, "after I read this." He shook the letter a little to indicate it.

The brunet frowned but decided not to argue. After retrieving his own mug, he retired to the kitchen to wash up while Demyx read his letter in private. By the time he returned to the other room, his roommate had finished and was sitting quietly on the couch with the open letter in his lap.

However, before Leon could open his mouth to send the sick blond back to bed, Demyx asked, "Leon, all those years ago, after you broke up with Cloud, what did you do to make yourself feel better?"

Shocked speechless, Leon just stood there for a good half-minute, staring at blue-green eyes, rimmed with red, that stared right back. When he finally found his voice, he asked back, "Why the _hell_ do you want to know?"

Demyx sighed and rested his head in one hand; the other hand tapped idly on the paper in his lap. "I … I think …" he replied, hesitating, "I think I'm losing Echo. Ever since New Year's, his letters have been …" He frowned a bit, searching for the right description. "Distant. Impersonal. Like he doesn't want me to see him anymore. The letters are still coming, but they're not the same and I have a feeling that it won't be long until they stop coming altogether. When that happens, I …" His voice trailed away, and when he spoke again, it was in a pained whisper. " _I'm going to hurt_."

Slowly, Leon sat down in his original chair and stared at the other man. His mind was making connections, and he really didn't like the conclusions it was forming. "Demyx," he asked pointedly, "are you implying what I think you're implying?"

Demyx just smiled at him with sadness in his eyes. "What do you think I'm implying, Leon?"

"I think you're implying that you've fallen in love with someone whose name and face you don't know and who followed you around and took pictures of you without you knowing for a _year_."

To Leon's immense relief, Demyx didn't immediately say yes, although what he did say wasn't that much better.

"I don't know," he whispered. "I know that I look forward to his letters, that I feel happy when I write to him or read what he writes to me, that lately I've been hurting to know that there's something wrong that he won't tell me about. I know that he's precious to me, that he's irreplaceable. But do I love him? I … I just don't know. Can I love someone I've never met? Someone I know nothing about except for what he's told me himself? Is it even possible to love someone like that? I … I …"

Leon stood, took the few steps to his roommate, and knelt down in front of him to be on eye-level. "Dem," he said kindly, "go to bed. You're sick. This is not the time to be trying to figure something like this out." He offered one of his rare smiles as a way to show Demyx that he really did care. "There will be plenty of time to agonize over what your heart is trying to tell you once you're well. Trust me on this."

Demyx smiled back at him. "If I weren't sick, you would so be being squeezed to death right now," he informed the older man with a half-smirk.

"Then I'll thank God and whoever else is listening that you're too indisposed to attack me."

The blond laughed a little, stopping before it could become a coughing fit. Carefully, he unfolded himself from the couch and redraped the fallen blanket around himself. He smiled one more time at Leon, who had gotten out of his way, and then began his slow trek back to his room and bed. Leon kept an eye on him all the way to the hallway and didn't let himself relax until he heard the door open and then close.

Once he was certain that Demyx had returned to bed, Leon collapsed into his chair and shut his eyes tiredly. Just once, he thought to himself, it would be nice if someone's love life went smoothly. He had way too many problems of his own to start playing the part of romance counselor for other people.

"I am getting too old for this shit," he complained, and with that announcement made to the world at large, Leon rose from his chair and went to bed.

xXx

The following week wasn't exactly easy, but it wasn't as bad as the previous one had been. Demyx was still sick, but at least the trouble with the shipments had been resolved. He was now calling customers instead of having them call him asking where their books were. A few were still upset, but most understood, and by the time Wednesday rolled around, Leon was no longer fantasizing about burning down the store and fleeing to the Caribbean to raise sheep and sell trinkets to tourists.

Late Wednesday morning, Leon was shelving so he wasn't able to watch the comings and goings of the customers. Every so often, he would hear the bell jangle and hear Yuffie's customary greeting or farewell, but he was too busy to pay much attention to the details. That was why he had no idea that Irvine was there until the man's hat descended onto his head and obstructed his vision.

"Hey, Leonhart!" his friend greeted with his usual grin. "How have you been?"

Even though Irvine had surprised him, Leon was used to the man's antics enough to answer without hesitation, "Dreaming about drowning puppies and kicking little old ladies down the stairs."

"Ah," Irvine returned, "so pretty much normal then, huh?" His ensuing laughter stopped when Leon elbowed him hard in the ribs.

Once the two friends had finished insulting and beating on each other, Irvine invited Leon out to lunch. The bookstore owner resisted at first, but Yuffie soon joined in and Leon eventually found himself kicked out of his own store, a grinning brunet at his side. At that point, Leon decided that the fight was a lost cause and gave in, although he refused to wear Irvine's hat as the two of them walked to the man's car.

By the time Leon returned to the store, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to thank Irvine or strangle him once and for all.

Leon had always known that the world hated him - Laguna was his father for God's sake! - but when Cloud had walked into that restaurant, he had realized that all the powers in the universe wanted him to be miserable.

"It's obviously for work," Irvine had said when Leon had explained why he was upset. "Maybe it's someone's birthday or they got the project done early. I really don't think he's blowing you off."

Leon hadn't really thought so either. He had been disappointed and upset, but he could understand it on a professional level. If the boss told you to do something, you did it even if you had already told someone else you couldn't. He had ordered Demyx and Yuffie around enough to know how that particular chain of command worked.

But then he had noticed the girl, and all of Leon's begrudging justifications had flown right out the window.

In the short time that they had had as boyfriends, Leon had never been jealous when it came to Cloud. He had trusted Cloud and had been far too much in love to doubt him for a moment. Once they had broken up, he had felt jealousy towards the woman who had stolen his love away, but without a face to hate or a presence to resent, it had been eclipsed by stronger emotions of loss and betrayal. As he had watched the brunette smile and flirt with Cloud, however, Leon had discovered just what it meant to be green with jealousy.

"What are you doing?" Irvine had asked him. "Trying to burn a hole in her head?"

"Sounds good to me," he had replied.

What he had wanted to do was walk over there, yank that hand off of Cloud's shoulder, and inform the little tramp that Cloud belonged to him. Unfortunately, he couldn't; Cloud wasn't his. As far as romantic ties were concerned, Cloud was a free man, and that girl had had as much right to try to claim his affections as Leon did. At the moment, Cloud had declared a preference for Leon, but unlike the brunet, the blond was open to relationships with women and all of his sexual experience had come from one.

_That_ is what had made the whole thing simply unbearable for Leon.

"You do realize, don't you, that staring at her isn't going to make her head implode?"

"Can't blame me for trying."

When someone had finally noticed and Cloud had spun around to stare back, the guilt in the other man's expression had just about torn Leon's heart to shreds. He hadn't been able to take it and had tried to flee, but Cloud had caught him. The explanations and excuses had washed over him without much effect, and the information that Cloud _knew_ about the girl's intentions and hadn't done anything to stop it had only made the situation worse. As far as Leon was concerned, the whole thing was just spiraling out of control, and, while he believed that Cloud had strong feelings for him at the moment, he had found himself beginning to doubt that the other man's love would last long enough for Leon to figure himself out and put his heart back together. With so many other people and things vying for Cloud's attention, it was only a matter of time before Leon found himself abandoned once again.

And then Cloud had threatened to kiss him, and everything had changed.

"Hey, Leon," Yuffie greeted when he entered the store. "How was lunch?"

"Fine," he responded automatically. Taking off his coat, he began walking towards the back room as he asked, "Everything all right here?"

"Yup. Everything's hunky dory!" She gave him a bright grin and a thumbs-up. "Irvine go back to work?"

"Yeah." In the back room, he hung up his coat, quickly scanned the orders that had yet to be picked up, and then walked back out front. "You can take your lunch break now if you want," he told Yuffie. "Sorry to make you wait so long."

"It's okay," she assured him. As she disappeared into the back to fetch her own coat, she added, "I don't mind filling in the empty spots while Demy's sick. I'm sure he'd do the same for me."

"I'm sure he would," Leon murmured mostly to himself. He crossed his arms atop the counter and leaned forward, letting his head hang down a little.

_You can't do this. Not for me._

_You're the only one I'd even consider doing it for._

Without realizing he was doing it, Leon smiled. It really was true that actions speak louder than words. Cloud's words had meant nothing to Leon. The blond could have talked all day, confessing his love and promising his loyalty, and Leon wouldn't have believed a word of it. His doubts had been too strong. Yet with one action - no, with the _threat_ of one action - Cloud had resolidified Leon's trust in him and the belief that their relationship could and would be saved. It didn't even matter that Cloud hadn't put his job on the line for Leon's sake. He had intended to, and that was enough to ease Leon's pain and fill him with both relief and a kind of amused affection.

"Idiot," he whispered to the memory of the other within his mind. "I'm not worth risking so much for." Cloud would deny that, of course, and the brunet could easily see the disapproving expression on the blond's face and hear the reprimanding words issuing from his lips. The next time they were in private, Leon would have to make sure he kissed those lips thoroughly.

"Leon? You okay?" Yuffie was back and looking at his bent figure with a touch of worry in her face. "You're not sick, too, are you?"

He turned his head to face her, briefly showing the lingering half-smile before he resumed his normal expression. "No, I'm fine," he said. "Just a bit tired."

"Oh, okay." She examined him for a second more to make sure. Satisfied, she straightened and announced brightly, "I have something I wanted to ask you." When he nodded for her to continue, she explained, "For the wedding, I'm only planning on having two bridesmaids. I've asked a friend from college to be my maid of honor, and I want Demy to be the other one, although I'm not going to make him wear a dress as tempting a thought as that is." She grinned at Leon who only rolled his eyes at the thought of Demyx in a satin gown. "Anyway," she continued, "Vincent wanted to know if you would be willing to be one of the two groomsmen, and I told him I'd ask you."

Surprised, Leon straightened up and gazed at her questioningly. "Me?" he asked. "But Vincent doesn't know me all that well. Is he sure he wants me?"

"Yeah," Yuffie assured him with a smile. "He has other friends, but he's about as close with them as he is with you. You know how he is." She shook her head and waved a hand in the air to indicate her exasperation with her anti-social fiancé. Returning her attention to her employer, she continued, "You're not that close with him, but you are with me. And Vincent does like you and respect you. It was his idea to ask you, by the way. Not mine."

Leon took a moment to process this before fixing his gaze on the woman in front of him and answering, "It's unexpected, but I would be honored to be in your wedding party."

She smiled but didn't express the excitement he had expected. "Okay," she said, "but before you completely accept, I have to tell you something else. There are two of you, right? And the other one's the best man. Vin had him lined up before he even proposed to me! Can you believe that? But 'cause they're best friends and all, he knew everything ahead of time and even helped bolster Vin's courage and stuff. And see … well … the guy … he's …" She trailed off, practically squirming from discomfort and anxiety.

Leon smirked. He knew exactly where this was going. "It's Cloud, isn't it?"

Yuffie flinched at little. "Yeah," she admitted. Then, with more confidence, she continued, "Is that okay? 'Cause if it's going to be, you know, awkward for the two of you, you can still say no. Cloud already said yes, and really, if one of you is going to step out, it should be you since Cloud and Vin have been best friends since forever."

"It's fine," Leon said, holding up a hand to stop her. "I still accept. It won't be a problem." He gave her a reassuring half-smile. "Even if there is a problem, we won't let it affect your wedding day."

Finally, Yuffie allowed herself to be excited, and joy bloomed in her face as she threw her arms around Leon's neck. "I'm so happy!" she cried. "Thanks, Leon."

"You're welcome," he replied. "I do have one condition, though."

She pulled back from the embrace and looked up at him with slight concern. "What's that?"

"I am absolutely under no circumstance dancing with Demyx, dress or no."

Yuffie burst into peals of laughter, hugging Leon again as tightly as she could before releasing him and skipping over to the store entrance. She waved at him once, then pulled open the door and practically danced out, bells ringing out behind her as the door closed. Leon watched her travel down the street, yet another smile threatening to work its way into his face.

It was only after Yuffie had completely disappeared that Leon realized something else about the agreement he had just made. As the only other groomsman in the wedding, he would have to work together with Cloud to plan Vincent's bachelor party. Now, _that_ was going to be interesting.


	30. Demyx

_The girl with the guitar starts her next song, and he can't hold back a groan._ **_He_ ** _had been planning to sing that song. Now he has to decide whether to sing it anyway and seem like a copycat or sing something unplanned and possibly mess himself up. A large part of him wants to just forget about the whole thing. There will be other open mike nights, hopefully ones that won't have Sarah wanna-bes singing his songs before he can._

_Next to him, Axel notices his distress and pokes him in the shoulder. "Hey, Dem. What's the matter?"_

_He plays sulkily with his soda, pushing the straw down just to watch the bubbles push it back up again. "I was gonna sing that one," he complains._

_"So what?" his friend replies. "Just sing it anyway."_

_Across the table, Luxord adds his agreement. "It's an open mike night," he argues, somehow managing to eat buffalo wings with a knife and fork without it looking stupid. "With this many people here, repeats are inevitable."_

_"Yeah, I know," he whines, "but I'm the one who has to go up there and tell everyone that they have to listen to a song they just listened to." He crosses his arms on the table and digs his chin into them, the picture of defeat. "Maybe I should just turn my number in and go home."_

_Axel's hand flies out and thwaps him on the back of the head. "What is up with that?" the hot-blooded teenager demands. "You've been waiting for this for a month! And now you're just going to go home without doing anything?"_

_"There will be other nights," he argues miserably._

_"Not for a long time," Luxord argues back. "Until you're actually legal, you'll be limited to sports bars like this one. This is an excellent opportunity, Dem. One you shouldn't overlook."_

_"Yeah, but the songs …"_

_"Forget about the songs," Axel tells him. "Your voice is much better than hers."_

_"Your arrangements are better, too," his other friend adds. "Listen to what she's doing. It's essentially straight chords. Not only are your versions more like the originals, at times they're even better."_

_"Yeah," Axel finishes. "Your performing is on such a higher level that no one will care it's a repeat. With you singing it, it'll sound like a completely different song." He pauses to give his friend an appraising look. "This is your dream, right? This is what you want."_

_"Yeah."_

_"Then go get it," Axel urges. "No one is going to hunt down your dreams for you, you know. If you want something, get up and go for it."_

_He doesn't respond. Sure he wants this, more than anything else, but like any other normal human being on the planet, he is also scared. Scared of being laughed at. Scared of rejection. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, though, his friends are right. He won't get another chance at this for a while, and there's no guarantee that the same thing won't happen the next time. Some people may sigh and jeer at him for his song choice, but at least he'll have Axel and Luxord to support him. As long as they are there, he won't fall completely._

**_If you want something, go for it._ **

_When his number is finally called, he stands, picks up his guitar, and makes his way to the microphone. There, in the spotlight, he takes a brief moment to simply breathe. Then, he lifts his gaze to the crowd before him and smiles._

_"Good evening, everyone. My name is Demyx, and I'm here to sing for you."_

**_Go for it._ **

xXx

For Demyx, Thursday was turning out to be a really good day. He was finally well enough to return to work, Yuffie had come in on her day off to ask him to be an attendant at her wedding - a bridesdude she had called it - and Zexion's book still sat in the back room, unclaimed. He had been so worried that the reserved assistant would pick it up while he was still sick and he would miss his chance to talk to him. Finding the book still there was like receiving an unexpected gift. It, combined with everything else, made him indescribably happy.

Even though he was back at work, he wasn't completely well yet. He had a lingering cough that troubled him off and on, and his throat still hurt a tiny bit. Leon pretty much never took his steely eyes off of him, watching for any sign that he wasn't well enough yet to be in the store. Yet in spite of the mild pains and the non-stop observation, the morning positively flew by. Demyx's high spirits never wavered, and he busied himself about his work with a spring in his step and a smile that wouldn't quit.

It all instantly faded the moment Lexaeus walked into the store.

It was a little after eleven when the door opened to admit the larger of the two assistants. He headed straight for the counter once he was inside, halfway across the store before the bells had even finished jangling. Demyx watched him come with dread, fighting off a frown. He somehow knew exactly why the other was here. "Welcome to Lionhearted Books," he rattled off without any of his usual enthusiasm. "How can I help you?"

"I'm here to pick up a book that my friend ordered," Lexaeus stated evenly.

Of course he was. Demyx wanted to scream, his good mood now well and truly destroyed. He wouldn't have been so upset if he hadn't been looking forward to seeing Zexion so much. He hadn't seen the smaller man since New Year's. He wanted to talk about that night, about the book he had bought the other week, about his studies, about _him_. Demyx had been so stoked, thinking he was only a few conversations away from gaining another friend. And then Zexion had to go and ruin it all, the jerk.

Polite professionalism dictated that Demyx should now turn and head back into the storeroom, retrieve the requested book, and return with it in order to hand it over. However, Demyx was feeling rather pissed at the moment and felt that polite professionalism could go screw itself.

Allowing that frown to win custody of his face, he asked Lexaeus pointedly, "Why?"

The giant of a man blinked at him. "Excuse me?"

"Why?" Demyx repeated, ignoring the glare that Leon was giving him from the other end of the counter. "Why didn't Zexion come pick the book up himself? Why did he send you?" A sudden thought occurred to him, one that seemed to be a recurring theme in his life at the moment. "Is he avoiding me?"

To the angry blond's surprise, the man in front of him turned his head slightly and began to chuckle. "I believe he is," he said after a moment, completely shocking Demyx who had just thrown the supposition out on a whim. "Or at least, that was my conclusion when he asked me to come here."

Now properly irritated, Demyx slammed his palms down on the counter and leaned as far over it as he could. "Why?" he demanded to know. "What did I do?" When Lexaeus shook his head, obviously unable to tell him, he growled low in his throat, shocking the two brunets nearby.

For the first time in his life, Demyx felt like he wanted to just smash something to pieces. He was seriously fed up with shy people and their reluctance to communicate. First, Echo had pulled away and distanced himself, and now Zexion was trying to hide behind Lexaeus, as if using the bigger man as a shield. It would have been tolerable at least if either of them had explained, even just a little, what was going on in their heads. What the fricking problem was. All Demyx wanted to do was make it right - apologize for something, stop doing something, start doing something - but he wasn't omniscient, dammit! He couldn't fix it and make it go away if he didn't even know what the hell the problem was in the first place!

Somewhere in the silence that followed, Lexaeus gently cleared his throat. Reluctantly, Demyx lifted his eyes from where they were burning holes in the counter and met the blue gaze that was trained on him. "Right now," the larger man confided, checking his watch, "Zexion is running a study clinic for Professor Vexen's students. It ends in twenty minutes." He slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned back on his heels, something secret and amused twinkling in his eyes. "If one were to leave immediately and walk at a reasonably brisk pace, one would arrive at the appropriate classroom just in time for it to end."

It took a minute for Demyx to understand, but the moment he did, he was scrambling for the back room. What a fantastic idea! What an absolutely, amazingly, perfectly _fantastic_ idea! "Leon! I'm taking an early lunch!" he called over his shoulder as he fled through the door.

His boss's answering sigh was perfectly audible, but luckily he kept his thoughts on the matter to himself. "Just be back by one," he ordered.

"I'll do my best!" Demyx answered. He snatched his coat off of the wall, shoved his arms through the sleeves, and tried to do up the zipper with shaking fingers.

"You want the Fleming building," Lexaeus's voice told him as he struggled with his gloves. "Take the main road to campus, turn right at the third intersection, and it's the second building on the left. He's in room 209."

"Got it!" Finally protected against the cold weather, Demyx snatched up the waiting book and sprinted out of the back room, around the counter, and towards the door. "Thanks, Lexaeus!" he shouted as he passed.

"You're welcome and good luck!" the other man replied, now fully grinning as he watched the blond fly past him. Demyx sent him one final shining smile before he ripped open the door and escaped into the winter morning.

About eighteen minutes later, Demyx was walking down the brightly-lit hallways of the college's biology building, panting slightly and trying not to cough too much as he peered at room numbers in his search for the correct one. He hadn't bothered thinking about what he was going to say to Zexion, only that he was going to demand an explanation from the smaller man. Whatever came next would depend on the other's reaction. Demyx knew he was more of an emotional person than an intellectual one, so he had made the decision to follow his instincts in this situation rather than plan out a long speech. He doubted he would be able to remember any pre-made speech anyway; his memory had never been that good when it came to recitation.

Eventually, he found the correct room and waited outside. Class was still in session, but he could see through the window in the door that students were beginning to pack up and chat with each other. Zexion was standing at the front podium, putting away some papers while he talked to a young woman about something she had written in her notebook. While they were still talking, someone opened the door and the first few students began to file out. Demyx took the opportunity to slip inside and hung back against the wall, slightly behind Zexion so the other couldn't see him without turning.

When the woman thanked Zexion and turned away, Demyx sprang into action. He strode forward purposefully, keeping out of sight for as long as he could manage, then dashed out in front of the podium and slammed his free hand down on the surface.

"Caught you!" he cried.

Zexion jumped, tripped, squawked, and fell backwards onto the floor in a mess of flailing limbs and loose papers. All around the room, students who hadn't left yet stopped and stared. For half a second, Demyx allowed himself to feel guilty, but then he remembered why he was here and let his annoyance at the assistant chase those feelings away.

Lifting a gloved finger and pointing it at a wide, staring blue eye, he stated, "You have been avoiding me."

"D-D-Demyx!" Zexion stuttered, still too shocked to be able to function properly. "What -? How -? Why -?"

In explanation to all three questions, the blond lifted up the Ansem volume for the other to see before slamming it down on the podium, feeling satisfied when the sound echoed around the room. "Did you really think you could get rid of me by not showing up at the store anymore?" he demanded. "I'm not thrown off that easily, Zexion. I _care_ about my friends, and, okay, we're not exactly friends yet, but after you and Lexaeus hung out with us at New Year's, I thought we were at least getting there. What happened? What did I do to make you feel that you couldn't even come to the store to pick up a book?"

Zexion's face had started out almost white, but it was reddening by the second. His visible eye darted about frantically before disappearing behind his hair as he dipped his head to hide his face. Demyx paused in his tirade for a moment to let his senses extend to the rest of the room. Several students were whispering to each other, and a few lingered in the door, watching the drama unfold with intense curiosity. They, as Demyx once had, probably viewed Zexion as some sort of robot or unemotional Ice Prince. To see their TA so flustered and embarrassed was clearly a surprise, one that filled them with a kind of perverse delight. And while suffering a little humiliation would probably be good for Zexion and his reputation, Demyx didn't want it to turn into a full-blown scandal and ruin the other man's authority within the school.

A quick moment to think, and Demyx knew what he needed to do. Suppressing a grin, he squatted down and began to gather the papers that had scattered when Zexion had fallen over. Once he had them all, he carefully lined them up together and reached for the bag that was sitting by the podium.

A single deep blue eye watched him, intently marking all of his movements. "What … ?" Zexion whispered. "What are you … ?"

Smiling, Demyx rose to his feet and slung the bag over his shoulder. "Let's get out of here and go have lunch," he said in a much friendlier voice.

The assistant stared at him. "But …" he stammered as Demyx picked up the Ansem book and slipped that into the bag as well. "But I … I don't … I mean …"

"You have a coat, right?" the blond plowed over him, ignoring his weak protests. "Where is it?"

"In … in the lab. But I can't …"

"Okay. Go get it and meet me in front of the building." He turned away, his smile growing into something almost devious. "Don't take too long, though," he warned playfully. "I only have until one, so if you don't show up soon, I'll leave without you. And then you won't get your bag back until I've forgiven you which could take a _very_ long time."

Finally, Zexion realized that Demyx had all of his class notes and several other important papers and books hostage. He scrambled to his feet, tripping over himself in his haste. "Demyx! Wait a minute!"

"You graduate students are usually on a stipend, right?" Demyx threw back over his shoulder. "I'll treat you then, but that means I get to choose the place."

"Wait!" Zexion cried again. He lunged forward, grasping fingers reaching for the strap of his bag, but Demyx twisted away from him easily.

"Don't worry," he smiled at the panicked man before him. "I'll take good care of your stuff. Just go get your coat and meet me outside. See ya!" He threw Zexion a final smile and a wink and slipped through the doorway into the hall, passing by several students who had watched the entire scene in a mixture of shock and amusement. One of them, he noticed, was the woman who had been talking to Zexion when he arrived. He sent her a cocky smile, and, to his surprise, she smiled right back.

"Good luck," she murmured as he passed by.

He didn't bother to reply, choosing instead to flash her a thumbs-up before merrily walking down the hallway towards the stairs to the first floor.

As was to be expected, Zexion was less than pleased when he showed up five minutes later, bundled up in a coat, gloves, and scarf and visibly boiling over with irritation and embarrassment. Demyx knew better than to try to make conversation yet, so he merely took the smaller man by the elbow and dragged him down the street. While he had been waiting, he had decided where he wanted to go for lunch: a sandwich shop that was located about halfway between campus and the bookstore. They served good food, had a nice atmosphere, and were in a convenient location for both men. His destination in mind, Demyx just walked, humming quietly to himself and trying to ignore the tight ball of stress that walked beside him.

"Welcome to Quina's!" the young woman behind the counter greeted them when he pushed open the door to the shop and stepped inside. "How can I help you today?"

Demyx smiled at her and walked up to the counter, noting with appreciation the purple streaks in her hair. He gave his customary order, then chatted with the woman while Zexion decided on what he would have. Once they had finished and Demyx had paid, the woman, whose name was Eiko, ran back to the kitchen with their orders while Demyx wandered over to a table and sat down. Zexion followed him like a reluctant shadow.

"So," Demyx began the moment the other had slid into a seat, "why are you avoiding me?"

Zexion hung his head, effectively hiding his entire expression from the man sitting across from him. "I'm not," he replied softly.

Demyx sighed in mild exasperation and rested his head in one hand. "Yes, you are," he insisted. "I haven't seen you since New Year's. Leon said you've been in a couple of times to pick up things for the Professor, but it's always been when I'm not working. And now today, you send Lexaeus instead of coming yourself. Obviously, you don't want to see me, and I want to know why. What did I do? What can I do to undo it?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

Zexion's head lifted, revealing his intense, searching gaze. "Why?" he asked.

"Because I like you," Demyx answered truthfully. "Because I want to be your friend."

Surprisingly, his words did not produce the reaction he expected. Instead of being reassured, Zexion responded with mild anger. His visible eye narrowed, and his expression hardened. "You're only saying that to earn my trust," he accused. "You wish to become my friend, but not because you like me. It is because you see me dedicated to my work, isolated in my studies, and you falsely assume that I am lonely and wanting companionship. You _pity_ me, and that is why you are trying so hard to befriend me. Unfortunately for you, I do not want or need your false offers of friendship. I am perfectly content without them."

Stunned by these accusations, Demyx sat up straight in his seat and let his hand fall into his lap. For a brief moment, he felt himself fill with doubt. Perhaps Echo had been right after all; perhaps Zexion _didn't_ want what Demyx was offering. Perhaps he had just been projecting his own personality and his own feelings onto the other man, seeing things that he wanted to see because he knew he would have seen them in himself were he in the same situation. But as Demyx stared dumbfounded into Zexion's single blue eye, he saw new emotions swimming there and knew in an instant that he had not been wrong. No matter what he said, Zexion was _not_ content. In fact, in this particular moment, he was unsure and afraid. Afraid that Demyx really was only offering his hand out of pity. Afraid that this possibility of companionship was only superficial.

On the outside, Zexion was cold and clinical, but Demyx could see that, inside, he really was human just like everyone else. And now that he was sure of it, he was even more determined not to let the other man escape.

Smiling, Demyx admitted, "It's true. At first I was only trying to get you to be my friend because you looked lonely and sad. But after hanging out with you at Luxord's, my motives have changed. I've decided I really like you, and now I want to be your friend for my sake, not for yours." He grinned a bit at Zexion's stunned expression. "So sorry, you're not getting rid of me. I feel like being selfish, and I can be real stubborn when I want to be."

Zexion didn't get a chance to reply, for at that moment, Eiko arrived with their food. During the ensuing bustle, Demyx decided that it didn't matter why the other man had been avoiding him as long as he didn't do it anymore. Demyx was here, Zexion was here - maybe a little bit against his will, but that wasn't important right now - and the best course of action was to forget anything had happened and make the most of what they had right now. By the time Eiko left to return to her place behind the counter, Demyx was more than ready to move on.

"So, did you read that book you bought the last time you were in?" he asked as he picked up his sandwich. "The one I said would probably be too boring for you?"

Zexion hesitated for a moment, surprised that their argument had been so easily put aside, but then he answered, "I did. It was simplistic, like you said, but surprisingly insightful. Some of the theories I had not considered before." He paused, looking down at his food in thought. Finally, he admitted, "I enjoyed it."

"Good," Demyx grinned. "I'm glad."

They chatted lightly for the rest of the meal, mostly about books of one form or another. It took a while before Zexion let himself relax and let go of the previous tension, but Demyx persevered and slowly began to see positive results. The blond found to his delight that, once the man opened up, Zexion was a lot of fun to talk to. He had a very dry sense of humor, rather like Luxord, but with less flair. And while he was very intelligent and often used words that were larger than necessary, he never talked down to Demyx or appeared to be annoyed when he had to explain things. They talked long after they had both finished their meals, and when Demyx looked at his watch to find that it was quarter to one, he very nearly whined in frustration.

"I have to go," he announced, pouting. "If I don't, Leon will have my head."

Zexion chuckled. Over the course of lunch, Demyx had discovered that he really liked Zexion's laugh. It was soft and reserved, but also warm and full of humor. "That would be an unfortunate turn of events," he commented.

Demyx smiled, but another thought made him serious again. Suddenly determined, he lunged across the table and grabbed both of the other man's wrists. "Promise me you'll come see me at the store some time," he demanded. "Promise me you won't avoid me anymore."

Zexion's surprised expression softened, and he smiled. "I promise."

Demyx beamed at him. Rising from his chair, he slipped on his coat and prepared to leave. After putting on his gloves and throwing out his trash, he retrieved Zexion's bag which he had stored under his seat and handed it over with a small bow. The assistant took it without comment, but his smile lingered, telling Demyx that he was no longer upset about the incident.

"I'll see you around then," he said as he started towards the door. "Bye, Zexy."

Zexion's response was so quiet that he almost didn't hear it, but the sheer disbelief in that tone was enough to make Demyx grin so hard he thought his face would crack.

" _Zexy?_ "

xXx

That evening, Demyx sat in his room on his bed with Sarah on the stereo and Echo's latest letter in his hands.

**I assure you that there is nothing wrong with me at present,** it said. **While I appreciate your concern for my well-being, your worries are unfounded. You said that from my tone I appear to be distancing myself from you. Comparing my last few letters to the ones preceding them, I cannot detect any difference in tone that could possibly imply this. Perhaps it is you yourself who are feeling distant and out of sorts. You said you were feeling ill. I imagine that is what has caused this trouble, and I urge you to relax and recuperate. There is nothing to be gained from these anxieties except a prolonged and drawn-out recovery.**

Discouraged, Demyx put the letter aside and lay back on the bed. He didn't care what Echo said; the man was hiding something from him. Something more than just his identity, which, if Demyx were to look at the situation fairly, was a pretty big thing to hide. At first, that hadn't bothered the musician all that much. He had just assumed that Echo was painfully shy and had really low self-esteem. But as time went on, things just kept getting more complicated. Demyx was pretty sure that he was heavily infatuated with his secret penpal if not downright in love with him. The only reason he didn't consider himself to be a lost cause already was because he seriously doubted it was possible to fall in love with someone you had never met.

When he took the time to really think about it, he had to admit that it really didn't seem likely. For one thing, he had to take Echo's word on absolutely everything and had no way to verify any of his claims. For another, he could easily just be in love with the mystery and intrigue of the thing, not with the person. For yet another, while physical appearance wasn't supposed to matter when it came to love, it often did anyway, and Demyx couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't be put off if Echo turned out to be obese or hideously ugly.

Still, the possibility lingered and continued to bother him. He always felt so warm and happy when he thought of Echo. He truly loved communicating back and forth with him, and receiving a new letter always filled him with such joy. It wasn't the compliments that the man often gave him or the excitement of engaging in something unusual and potentially dangerous. No, it was just Echo that Demyx liked, the things he said and the way he said them. It didn't matter who the man was or what he looked like; Demyx knew they would always be friends at the very least.

But could they be more?

Demyx sighed and rolled over to bury his face in the pillow. He just didn't know the answer to that, and he was pretty sure he _couldn't_ know the answer until he actually got to meet the other man. In his most recent letters, he had turned up the volume on his hinting, but Echo had continued to ignore it. He could stop hinting and start demanding, but he had the sneaking suspicion that if he did that, Echo would either continue to ignore him or break off their communication. Neither outcome would give Demyx the closure he needed. He needed to see Echo, face to face, and figure out exactly what was going on in his heart.

There had to be a way to convince Echo to reveal himself to Demyx on his own. Demyx knew he could always just ask the people at the post office about the other man who used their box, but that would be betraying Echo's trust and he didn't want to do that unless he had no other choice. Even if he had no other choice, a large part of him didn't want to do that. Losing Echo out of the other man's fear would be far preferable to losing him out of Demyx's own treachery. But what could he do to get Echo to trust him with his identity?

Needing something to cheer himself up, Demyx rolled off of the bed and took the few steps to his bookshelf. He extracted the photo album he had made of the pictures Echo had sent him and walked back to the bed to flop down and page through them. They were all so wonderful, so bright and full of energy. He couldn't help but smile as he looked at them. Happily, he turned a page and then the next.

And stopped.

Demyx stared down at the picture, struck numb by the onslaught of inspiration. Ideas and possibilities whirled about in his head like a hurricane, slowly calming and lining themselves up into a plan. It was borderline crazy, definitely dangerous. He would need help. Both Luxord and Axel. And maybe Marluxia and Larxene just for added insurance. They'd almost certainly try to talk him out of it - well, maybe not Marly - but the more he thought about it, the more determined he became. Even if it didn't work, even if Echo refused to cooperate, he would feel like at least he had done something.

Of course, if it did work, that would create a new set of problems and worries. Because at that point, Demyx would either discover that he didn't love Echo and be disappointed or know for certain that he did and be compelled to confess. If Echo ran at that point, Demyx knew it would take far more than one crazy idea to catch him. But Psyche was tired of living in the dark. If the penalty for knowledge was to chase Eros around the world, Demyx was more than prepared to wear through as many metal shoes as were necessary. If this truly was love he was feeling, he would be willing to do anything to keep it.

Determined and excited, Demyx grabbed for his phone and began dialing numbers. Beside him, the photo album lay open, revealing a picture of him and Axel together at their favorite café. It had been late spring, and they had been meeting up to go do something together. A movie most likely. Axel had gotten there first and was sitting at a table, waiting. Demyx had arrived second, coming up behind Axel so that the red-head hadn't seen him. Echo had snapped the picture at the absolute perfect time, capturing a moment that had lasted probably only a second, preserving both the playful grin on Demyx's face and the startled expression on Axel's. The shot was of the moment when Demyx had successfully snuck up on Axel and surprised him.

With his hands over the other man's eyes.


	31. Axel

_"Okay, Dem, we're here. What's up?"_

_He leans back against one arm of the ratty old couch in his best friend's basement. His other best friend reclines against the other arm, one leg stretched out to the floor, the other bent with the ankle resting against the other knee. Together, they look like a pair of stern judges about to pass sentence on the cowering criminal before them. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Demyx looks more than able to take on that role. His body is shaking slightly, and he keeps fidgeting in place as if he'd rather be anywhere but here._

_"Okay, well," the blond starts slowly, "I asked you both to come over because I have something kind of important that I want to tell you." The hands in his lap begin to twist against each other, fingers grasping and tangling. Gradually, his pace picks up until the words are streaming out of him. "You guys have been my best friends for a really long time now, and you both mean a whole lot to me. That's why I'm really hoping that nothing will change between us when I tell you and that we'll still stay friends, but I'll understand if you don't want to be my friends anymore. I mean, it'll hurt, it'll really hurt, but I'll get why, you know? I won't be happy for a long time, in fact I'll probably be miserable, but I'll get over it eventually because everyone does, right? People talk about dying from broken hearts and stuff, but no one actually does. So I won't die, probably, I think, and then I'll get better and find new friends, probably, somehow, so -"_

_"Demyx," Luxord says softly but firmly, cutting off the wild babbling from their friend on the floor. "Tell us what?"_

_Demyx stares at him, wide-eyed and frightened, for a good twenty seconds. Then, he inhales and cries, "I'm gay!" before throwing his arms over his head and trying to hide._

_No one says anything for at least a minute and a half. Finally, Luxord breaks the silence in a most unexpected way. He starts to laugh._

_"Is that all?" he asks, prodding Demyx's curled up body with his foot. "I thought you were going to say something surprising."_

_The other blond peeks out from under his crossed arms, face blooming with budding hope. "You … you don't mind?"_

_"Of course not. Or at least, I don't." His eyes lift and gaze across to the other side of the couch. "Axel? What about you?"_

_Demyx's eyes follow Luxord's, and suddenly he has two blue gazes fixed upon him. Frowning, he looks away. He hasn't figured out what he thinks yet. So Demyx is gay. That isn't all that surprising. He and Luxord have both had their fair share of girlfriends, but Demyx, at seventeen, hasn't had even one and always protested that he just wasn't interested in the selection that's out there. Like Luxord, he probably should have seen this coming. Unfortunately, he hadn't, which leaves him struggling with confused thoughts and emotions._

_Drumming his fingers against the back of the couch, he says, "Objectively, I have no problem with it. Gays are cool in my book, you guys know that. But …" He trails off and exhales loudly, blowing upwards to make his bangs rustle._

_"But … ?" Luxord prompts._

_He grimaces a little. "But when I think about Demyx with another guy, making out with him and stuff, it's just … weird. I don't think it's sinful or morally wrong or any of that stupid crap, but it still feels_ **_weird_** _. There isn't a better word for it." He turns slightly to meet the blue-green eyes that are gazing at him and gives that hopeful face an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Dem. I guess I'm going to have to get used to it."_

_Demyx nods, his smile small but happy. "I totally understand. You still want to be my friend though, right?"_

_He scoffs at the thought that something like this would break them apart. "Absolutely! Hell, even if you were gay for me, I'd still be your friend. … Wait a minute." Suddenly nervous, he leans forward, hands on his knees, and asks, "You're not gay for me, are you? Or for Lux?"_

_His friend laughs at the panicked expression on his face. "No. I'm not crushing on either of you," he replies. "I'm not really crushing on anyone at the moment except for a couple of celebrities, but that's totally normal." Demyx grins up at him and winks. "Right?"_

_"Right," he answers, leaning back into the couch in relief. While thinking of Demyx with another man gives him weird vibes, he can still imagine it and accept it, and with a little bit of time, he has no doubt that he'll get used to it and be able to see it happen in reality without batting an eyelash. But in that brief moment where the other man kissing Demyx was_ **_him_** _, he very nearly had a brain crash. Other people being gay is perfectly fine; him being gay is another story altogether. There's no way that anyone, anywhere, at any time will ever get him to question his sexuality. No way in hell._

xXx

The best part of being involved in the school's annual play was, in Axel's esteemed opinion, being able to park in those damned Visitor parking spots. For two and a half years, he had been forced to battle other students for those precious few spots that remained ten minutes before homeroom, celebrating his victory by walking what seemed like a damn mile to the front doors. And at the end of his trek, those beautiful Visitor spots, mere feet from the building, would mock him with their emptiness. Demyx had always asked why he didn't just show up for school earlier like he did. There were lots of spots, he claimed, at seven in the morning. Axel had never bothered to deign him with a verbal response; his disbelieving glare had been more than enough.

Now, however, he could drive his tires over those once-sneering white letters and cackle to himself at his triumph. They may have gloated their supremacy over him in the past, but in the end, he was the one who had prevailed.

"Hey, Firebird!" Marluxia greeted him as he entered the auditorium. The brunet was leaning casually against the stage, several boxes of scripts surrounding him. Next to the boxes sat two stacks of papers on which the auditioning students would write their personal information and a quick version of their résumés.

"Hey," Axel returned. He looked around as he approached and, not seeing a rather important blonde, asked, "Where's Larxene?"

"She went to Kramer's office," the other man replied with a sly smile. "She figures that if she keeps him 'updated' on the show's progress, he won't bother to actually come down here and see for himself how it's going."

Axel offered an answering smirk. "Sounds like a good plan." He reached inside a box and extracted a script, curious to see what his good friend and director had done to it. As he flipped through the pages, he was surprised to see that, as far as he could tell, none of the dialogue had been changed. All of the stage directions, however, had been completely erased, leaving large blank spaces behind.

"She's a fucking genius," Marluxia whispered to him over his shoulder. Axel raised an eyebrow at him, wanting more, but the brunet merely shook his head. "Wait and see," he advised, turning away. Movement at the entrance caught both of their attentions, and soon Marluxia was striding away, calling out to a petite blonde girl who had arrived with the first wave of students.

"Naminé darling, come here! You _have_ to see what Larxene wants us to do this time!"

Feeling suddenly irritated, Axel tossed the script back into the box. Of course Larxene had told Marluxia everything. He was in charge of sets and costumes so he would have to know what she wanted ahead of time to assure her that he could do it. It had nothing to do with the fact that they were fucking each other. Oh no. It was totally because of their jobs. As lighting and sound director, Axel didn't need to know the final concept beforehand. Never mind the fact that _Axel_ had been the one to come up with the idea in the first place.

He sighed to himself and took a long moment to stamp down all of his resentment until it was gone. Larxene was Larxene, and he knew this and voluntarily worked for her in spite of it. If she had a problem with him, she wouldn't show it by snubbing him in this vague, indirect way. No, if she had a problem with him, she'd show it by castrating him, slowly and painfully, in front of a paying audience.

More students were trickling in, filling up the front couple of rows and chatting excitedly with each other. Axel let his gaze roam over them. Most of the faces were familiar, although some were new. Freshmen, probably. He noticed with amusement that a few of the new ones were staring at him in open awe, because of his hair no doubt. He looked away from them, hiding a smirk. If they thought _he_ was unusual, they were going to get quite the shock once their lovely director showed up and did her stuff. Each year they had at least one freshman go running from the auditorium in terror.

"Axel! Hey, Axel!"

A flood of mixed emotions washed over the red-head as Hayner came barreling down one of the aisles, dragging another kid with him. Other than Gippal who was his right-hand man in these productions, Hayner had been Axel's favorite last year. The kid fit in just perfectly with their loud, brash, hard-hitting group, and he was handy, too, able to work any and all of the machines with speed and precision. While Larxene hadn't told him very much about her final concept for the show, she had given him the bad news that, unless a miracle happened, he'd be losing one of his men this time around.

"Hey, Hayner," he greeted as the blond came up to him, grinning from ear to ear. "How's life been treat…ing … you … ?" The other kid, the one Hayner had been dragging, finally came into view, and Axel's eyes popped. Those blue eyes, that blond head of hair, that glower, he knew them all. Knew them and had been thinking about them off and on for several weeks.

"Roxas?!"

Hayner paused in answering Axel's initial question to blink at the older man's outburst. After a moment, he turned to the other boy, who had ceased his struggling in favor of hanging his head in resigned anger, and asked, "You know Axel?"

"Of course I know Roxy baby!" Axel replied before Roxas could do anything more than twitch. He swooped in and gathered up both blonds in his arms for a group hug. "Hayner, you are the best friend a guy could ask for! To reunite me with the girl of my dreams."

Roxas's fist clenched, but Axel had been watching for it. He dropped them both and stepped away before Roxas could swing at him. Several students, mostly girls, began to giggle. "And you brought Sora, too," he continued, noticing that the brunet had also arrived along with Kairi and Riku. "Well, look at that! The gang's all here!" He grinned wildly down at the little blond who looked seconds away from blowing a blood vessel.

Oh, how he had missed this! He felt high, buzzed. Those eyes and that frown gave him such a rush and he had no idea why. There was just something about the burning fire buried in that deep blue that gripped him and drew him in. He craved it, and he hadn't realized how badly he had wanted it until it was right there in front of him again. Of course, this euphoric moment wouldn't last very long. Roxas was already turning, ready to stomp back up the aisle and escape through the auditorium doors, and he wouldn't be returning. Sora might stay, might audition and even get a part, but Roxas wouldn't be back, not now that he knew that this was at least partly Axel's domain.

"I'm out of here," Roxas grumbled to Hayner, finally managing to get his arm free from the other blond's grip. He had only taken three steps, however, when a commanding voice boomed through the auditorium and stopped everyone in their tracks.

"Sit down!" it ordered. "All of you. No one is leaving. Especially you, blondie."

Roxas stared in a mixture of fear and horror at the figure of Larxene as she stood silhouetted in one of the open doorways. Her proud, domineering stance made her appear far larger than she actually was, although those who knew her knew the two-inch stilettos didn't hurt. One manicured nail was pointing directly between Roxas's blue eyes as if poised to lance him through the head.

"The director is here," she announced, turning her head to glare at all of them although her finger never wavered from Roxas's forehead. "Everyone sit down, shut up, and prepare to be dazzled."

The students all scrambled to comply, even Roxas who hunkered down next to Hayner as if preparing for a nuclear explosion. Larxene stalked down the aisle, exuding her customary dominance as she came, all the way to the front of the stage where Axel and a recently-returned Marluxia stood waiting for her. She took her place in the center, a submissive and devoted man on each side, and turned to address her subjects.

"I," she announced, "am Larxene. I am the director. This means that what I want is what I will get, and you will give it to me or your acne-covered asses will be out on the street faster than you can pull out your overpriced phones and whine to your mommies."

Axel looked for the gaping faces he had seen before and found, to his satisfaction, that they were now looking rather green. And Larxene hadn't even properly started swearing yet.

"This is Marluxia," she continued, indicating the man at her side with a bored wave. "Marly, tell the newbies what you do."

Marluxia gave the students a dazzling smile and motioned for Naminé to join him up front. "I do costumes and sets," he explained, "with the help of my dear Naminé, your student representative. Unlike many high school shows where you end up supplying your own costumes, Nam and I make everything from scratch, tailored to fit your bodies in the most becoming ways. Likewise, while we appreciate any assistance anyone wants to offer on building sets, most of the work will be done by the professionals over at Tantalus." He paused to let the traditional fluttering of whispers pass by at this news and then finished, "If any of you are aspiring artists and wish to help in the creative process, let me or Nam know. Thank you."

"And in spite of all appearances," Larxene added, giving Marluxia a sly grin, "he is not, in fact, a poof."

The brunet man flipped his long feathered hair over his shoulder, pretending to be affronted. "Well, you would know, sweetheart," he cooed. Several of the returning students, who knew all about Larxene's and Marluxia's long-standing relationship, sniggered.

"This is Axel," Larxene continued, completely ignoring her boyfriend's comment and the ensuing reaction. "Introduce yourself, Firebird."

Axel grinned and gave the assembled students a two-fingered salute. "Yo! I'm Axel, in charge of lights and sound. Your student rep in my department is Gippal, who is where?" He scanned the rows quickly, stopping when the senior he wanted lifted his hand. "Gip, get up here," he ordered, indicating the spot next to him. As the boy rose and fought his way across several other bodies to the aisle, Axel continued, "We do the spots as well as the overhead lights, mics, sound effects, and music if needed. I'm going to need a lot of bodies to push buttons for me, so if you don't get a part, please consider joining up with us. We don't bite. Much. Do we, Gip?" he asked as the student finally took his place next to him.

"Only when we're hungry," Gippal replied, right on cue, "and we only break the skin if asked."

"Right," Larxene interrupted, taking the reins back for herself. "So, that's taken care of introductions. Now we get to the fun part." A grin spread across her face as she reached back and pulled out a script from one of the boxes. "The show we're doing this year is _Our Town_ by Thornton Wilder. On the surface, it's a little tamer than the shows I usually put on, but I have a few surprises for the lot of you that I think you're all going to like. So let's get started with auditions, shall we?" She nodded at Gippal and Naminé who each picked up a stack of the information papers and began distributing them.

In the ensuing silence, broken only by the scratching of pencils and the occasional murmur from one brave soul to another, Gippal returned to Axel and lounged against the stage with him. "I don't get it," the blond senior said after a moment. "I've been thinking about it for a while, and I just don't get it."

Assuming he meant the play choice, Axel answered simply, "Pressure from Kramer."

But Gippal shook his head. "No," he said, "I knew about that. I mean, why does Marly look like he's won the lottery? That's what I don't get." When Axel turned to him with a look of surprise, Gippal continued, "Isn't this play minimalist? The sets are supposed to be a couple of tables and some chairs. But he still gave the same speech about the Tantalus guys building stuff for us. I just don't get it."

As if drawn there by their own will, Axel's eyes slid sideways to land on Marluxia and Naminé who were sitting together in a couple of empty seats in the front row. The two had their heads close together, whispering back and forth like a couple of love-struck girls discussing an upcoming date, and Naminé's hand was flying over her open sketchbook. From where he stood, Axel couldn't see what she was drawing, but then Marluxia hugged her in a fit of delight and her lap shifted just enough to show him what was on the page. It looked, to Axel's amateur eye, like the interior of a coffee shop, a Starbucks to be more precise.

Links began to connect in Axel's head, and slowly, a smirk spread over his face. All of those blank stage directions suddenly made a hell of a lot more sense. "I think I do," he commented to Gippal in a low voice. "And I think we're all going to love it. Everyone except Kramer, that is." He grinned evilly at his student partner.

Gippal grinned right back, excitement gleaming from his one good eye. "I like the sound of that," he confided.

"All right!" Larxene suddenly shouted, startling just about everyone in the auditorium. "You've all had enough time, so pass 'em up." She snapped her fingers in Gippal's direction, and the boy leapt to comply. As he and Naminé gathered up the papers, Larxene picked up a clipboard that had been resting in a box of scripts and placed the other hand on her hip. "If I call out your name," she said, "get a script and get up on stage. Paine!"

The dark-haired girl didn't reply but stood up with an expectant expression. She and all the others who had worked for Larxene before knew exactly what was coming.

"You're reading for Emily Webb." Once Paine had nodded and begun her trip to the stage, she continued, "Hayner, you're reading for George Gibbs."

"What?" the blond cried, jumping from his seat. "But I'm not an actor! I do tech with Axel!"

Larxene gave him a look that made him shrink down to almost half his normal size. "Last year you did tech with Axel," she said evenly. "This year you're reading for George Gibbs."

"But …" Hayner tried in one last-ditch effort to escape the thespian life. "But … Axel?"

The appeal lanced through Axel's heart, but he knew better than to come to his ex-comrade's defense. "Sorry, kid," he said, shaking his head sadly. "Go on up and do it. If you're lucky, someone else will do better."

Hayner wilted but began to push out of the row to the aisle as directed when Larxene called out, "Riku!"

"Yes, ma'am," the platinum blond replied, standing for her.

"You're reading for Dr. Frank Gibbs."

" _What?!_ " both Riku and Hayner near-screamed at the same time.

"You want me to play his - !"

"You can't expect me to work with - !"

" _Shut it!_ " Larxene bellowed, silencing both boys instantly. Shifting her cutting gaze between them, she questioned, "You hate each other, yes?" When they had both nodded, she explained, "This makes you perfect to play the father-son relationship that I'm looking for. Dislike and disgust that strong can't be acted. So shut up, both of you, and get on stage before I decide to tear off your balls with my teeth."

As both boys ran for the stage like they had fires lit under their asses, the director extraordinaire continued, "Pence!"

"Ma'am!"

"You're reading for Charles Webb. Give me as bumbling as you can."

"Got it!"

"Kairi!"

"Yes!"

"Can you do power bitch?"

"Sure."

"Good. You're reading for Myrtle Webb. Rikku and Yuna."

"Yes?"

"Yeah?"

"You're both reading for Julia Gibbs. I haven't decided whether I want ditz or soccer mom. Help me decide."

"Okay!"

"You got it!"

"And last," Larxene sighed, lowering the clipboard with a strange look of peacefulness on her face, "the crux of this whole production. Sora and Roxas Strife."

The twins looked up with identical expressions of surprise and fear, locked gazes with each other for a split second, and then rose to their feet at the same time.

Larxene smiled at them, and Axel was surprised by how non-threatening it was. "You two are reading for the part of the Stage Manager," she informed them. "Up you go."

As the twins made their way onto the stage - using the stairs the furthest away from Axel he noticed - Larxene regained her usual harsh demeanor and addressed the aspiring actors who remained. "The rest of you can audition for whatever part you want," she said. "If you've worked with me before, you know this already, but I'll say it for those who are new. I do not pre-cast. I do, however, know exactly what I want, and _this_ -" She waved an arm to encompass the nine students currently standing on stage. "- is what I want. If you want one of these roles, you have to take it from them. Give me everything that they can give me, but do it _better_. I don't give a damn about color, shape, or size. What I care about is _character_. Personality, attitude, realism. These kids that I've selected can give me exactly what I want in regard to those things. If you want their roles, prove to me that you deserve them more."

A moment passed in which Larxene waited for all of this to sink in. Then, she leaned back against the stage with a relaxed smile and continued, "Now, let me tell you all about my vision for this production. _Our Town_ , as most of you probably know, is a timeless classic about family and community. It is a warm slice of Americana served with ice cream and a sweet, if slightly sad smile. It is a nostalgic look at the way we were with the bittersweet realization that we will never be that way again. To sum up, it is sickeningly sweet, pathetically boring, and pretty much a piece of shit from beginning to end."

A couple of cheers went up at that, although whether it was in appreciation of Larxene's assessment of the play or of her swearing, Axel didn't know. He had to admit he himself approved of both.

"Our _Our Town_ ," Larxene continued, waving a script tantalizingly at the assembled group, "is going to be unlike any other production ever seen. Every single word of dialogue will be preserved. However, I am completely rehauling this crap-fest visually and thematically. And the whole thing hinges on the Stage Manager, or should I say, the Stage Managers." She turned towards the Strife twins with a hungry smile. They, to their credit, only cringed a little.

"Hello, boys," Larxene cooed to them, stepping a bit closer. "I'm so glad to finally meet you. Axel has told me so much about you." Axel, to his lack of credit, cringed quite a bit and looked away when Roxas shot him a death glare. "You really are virtually identical except for your hair color, aren't you? How wonderful." Turning back to the rest of the students, she raised her voice and continued, "The Stage Manager part has been split into two. One of them will be pleasant, cheerful, wistfully nostalgic, looking at the world through rose-colored glasses, imagining the happier, simpler times of the early 1900s. The other will be the true director of what's going on on the stage, the realist, and the one who keeps the first manager from realizing that what he thinks is 1901 and onward is really 2001. A world of punk -" A sharp nail pointed directly at Hayner who jumped. "- goth -" A point at Paine. "- emo, and prep. A world of fast cars, internet, texting, and all of it hyped up on endless caffeine. A world of corporate bitches -" A point at Kairi. "- cheating husbands -" One at Riku. "- and families that barely speak to each other much less care about each other. _That_ is the world of our _Our Town_ , and that is the world that our poor oblivious Stage Manager Number One will never see until the very end, seconds before the final fall of the curtain."

Her speech finished, Larxene took a moment to preen herself before her stunned audience. When she had finished, she said brightly, "So, let's have some readings, shall we?"

Axel had been as stunned as everyone else, but as his goddess of a director passed by on the way to her seat, he snapped himself out of his daze and snatched her arm before she could pass.

"You," he whispered in her ear, "are a fucking genius."

Larxene tilted back her head and gave him the sweetest, most innocent smile he had ever seen. "I know," she replied, and with a flutter of eyelashes, she had slipped out of his grip and continued on.

xXx

Fanart by [DuetMaoim](http://duetmaoim.deviantart.com/)

xXx

He had stayed for the first few auditions, but watching nervous kids stumble their way through unfamiliar lines had never really been Axel's thing. He knew Larxene didn't need him right now anyway, so after watching the initial set of picks run through a few scenes, he slipped out of the main part of the auditorium and to the backstage area. A quick clamber up a partly-hidden ladder, and he was back where he belonged.

"Hello, girls," he murmured seductively to the two switchboards before him. "Did you miss me?" The knobs and sliders didn't respond with words, but Axel could see the way they gleamed at him, welcoming their lord and master home once more. He ran a hand slowly along the base of one console, taking the time to fully appreciate the cool metal beneath his fingers. Ah, the sweet seduction of returning to an old flame after a year-long absence.

Satisfied with his reunion for the moment, Axel picked up the small folding chair that sat against the wall, unfolded it, and settled himself in front of the dual boards. A short foray into his jeans' pocket produced the key that opened up the panel to the master switch. Grinning happily to himself, he flicked the switch, closed the panel up again, sat up, and proceeded to make sure that every one of his precious switches were still operating according to his specifications.

A couple of the kids down below screeched when all the lights went out at once, but he didn't leave them in the dark for long. He tried the pink overhead lights first, then the blue, and then the green. Front, middle, and back in that order. Then he played around with the footlights, the backlights, and the automated spots.

"Keep going!" he heard Larxene yell at some newbie down on the stage who was hesitating due to the unpredictable lighting. "You think things like this won't happen in the actual performance? Focus, damn you!"

Axel sniggered to himself as his fingers continued to work. An actor in a Larxene production would have to get used to far more than the tame stuff he was currently pulling.

Mild clanking noises behind him made him pause briefly and turn in his seat. Someone was climbing up his ladder. He briefly considered defending his territory by dropping something heavy on the invaders, but quickly decided against it. It was probably just Gippal, and it would be a shame for the boy to lose both of his eyes.

As it turned out, the spiked head of blond hair that appeared belonged not to Gippal but to Hayner. The boy grinned brightly in greeting and asked, "Mind some company?"

"Some, yes," Axel smiled in reply. "Yours, no."

Hayner laughed, but instead of proceeding to haul himself the rest of the way up, he looked below himself instead. "How about Roxas?" he asked after a moment. "Mind him?"

Surprised, Axel sat up straight, green eyes widening. "You actually convinced Roxas to come up here?"

"Yeah," Hayner replied with a frown. "I promised him you wouldn't act like a total jerk-off. What's with that anyway, Axel?" He loosely crossed his arms on the top of the ladder and leaned against them casually, as if he wasn't standing on only a thin metal rung a good seven feet off the ground. "I know that everyone here is used to you acting like an ass most of the time, but you can't be like that with someone you just met. That's just socially retarded. Grow up a little, you know?"

For a long moment, all Axel could do was blink at this kid, seven years his junior, giving the older man advice as if their ages were reversed. Then, he threw his head back and laughed. "Fine, fine," he conceded, waving a hand in surrender. "Go ahead and get Roxy up here. I promise to behave."

Hayner nodded, and within a minute, the two blonds had joined the red-head in the small overhead space that held all the school's lighting equipment.

"My darlings," Hayner whined, laying his upper body down flat on one of the consoles. "I can't believe that woman is tearing me from you." Peering up dejectedly at Axel, he asked, "Do you think she'll consider someone else for the role instead of me? I read the lines as dully as I could."

Axel clucked his tongue and, just for the hell of it, flooded the stage with pink again. "I doubt it, kid. Larxene isn't one to be put off by faked readings. Besides, when you read with Riku, _that_ wasn't dull by any means." He grinned at the memory of the two blonds going through their lines while trying to murder each other with their gazes. "The two of you were spitting sparks, Hay," Axel informed him gleefully, "and it sounds like that's just what the lovely lady wanted. I've got a sneaking suspicion you're stuck."

Hayner groaned miserably and hugged the switchboard as best he could. Behind him, Roxas peered over his shoulder and broke the sullen silence he had been keeping up until then. "What do all of these buttons do anyway? Apart from wreak havoc on everyone below, that is."

A single look of thrilled expectation passed between the two tech-heads. Then, as one, they launched into a detailed explanation of every switch, button, and knob present. Roxas floundered at first under the onslaught of information, but he quickly rallied, hunkering down with an expression of grim determination and concentration. It didn't really matter that neither Hayner nor Roxas would be able to work as crew this year. The boys were in their element, happily playing with their expensive, flashy toys.

"See?" Hayner fake-whispered when they had finished and were preparing to return to ground level. "I told you Axel wasn't so bad." Grinning, he lightly elbowed the other blond in the ribs.

Roxas only shrugged and replied, "I'm still not entirely convinced, but we'll see."

Poised with a witty comeback, Axel turned in his seat and opened his mouth to deliver it, but what he saw froze him in place, eyes wide and jaw unhinged. Thankfully, neither blond seemed to notice, for they swung themselves onto the ladder, one after the other, and rapidly descended. Once they reached the ground, they called up their final thanks and good-byes and then wandered away, leaving Axel by himself, still speechless with shock.

Slowly, the red-head's brain began to function again, and the first thing it did was tell him to close his damn mouth. Once that had been accomplished, the jaw returning to its proper place with an audible click, it began the much more difficult task of processing what had just happened and why the hell it had derailed him so badly. The beginning part was easy to assess. The boys had been leaving. He had turned around to see them off with one of his usual cool yet brilliant observations. His eyes had sought out the closer of the two who just happened to be Roxas.

And Roxas had been smiling. At him. _Roxas_ had been _smiling_ at _him!_ That angry, glowering face with its flashing eyes and its world-weariness, that face had been lit up with a wide, toothy, _beautiful_ smile that made his blue eyes sparkle and his whole aura shine. Axel had been blindsided, bitch-slapped, knocked for several loops, and just basically flabbergasted. Never in his life had he seen something so awe-inspiring. Never had something affected him like this, so quickly and so deeply.

Suddenly desperate, Axel whirled back to the switchboards and grabbed at the fabric of his shirt covering his chest. His heart was racing, his skin felt flushed, and he could feel a small knot of something soft and warm hovering near his heart. He knew what it was; he had felt it before. Just never for a guy. A fucking _underaged_ guy!

Axel leaned against the console, digging fingers into his hair and swallowing down panic. With closed eyes, he filled his mind with images of long lashes and painted lips, of small waists and flaring hips, of cute round asses and plump breasts. That was the key: breasts. "Proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy," he whispered to himself, quoting his brother Reno who most definitely knew his way around a pair of breasts. Chicks were his thing, not dudes. Because Axel was definitely not gay. Marluxia could go fuck himself. He did _not_ have a crush on Roxas. The kid's anger just gave him a high, that was all. He loved teasing him, seeing that attitude, winding him up to see the explosion, watching the fire as it burned in his eyes …

… those gorgeous sparkling eyes that filled him with a shivering warmth, and that angelic smile that made him ache, not in a painful way, but with a gentle longing. A smile framed by beckoning pink lips that promised sweetness initially, but with the potential for something harder later on, something that might match that fiery attitude, something akin to an explosion …

Groaning, Axel slammed his head down and covered himself with his arms. "Sweet, merciful mother of God," he whined pathetically, "I am _so fucked!_ "


	32. Sora

_His small body quivers in overwhelming distress, but for the first time in months, there is some hope in his despair. Roxas is in this building. Their long, agonizing separation will soon be over._

_"I'm sorry," his most recent foster mother is saying to the orphanage's director, "but I can't take this anymore. He was a sweet boy at first, but lately it's been nothing but screaming, crying, and throwing tantrums." She looks back over her shoulder at him and sighs. "He clearly can't function without his brother, and I told you at the onset that I couldn't take them both."_

_His body suddenly stills as a cold shock shoots through him._ **_What?_ **

_At the director's desk, the man has handed over the discharge paperwork and picked up his phone to call for one of the aides. His ex-foster mother finishes up the papers just as the door opens and a young woman steps into the office._

_"Oh, thank goodness!" she cries, falling to her knees by his side and enveloping his rigid body in a hug. "Roxas has been out of control almost since the day you left."_

_The director glares at her but waits until he has politely shown out the older woman before correcting her. "Let him go!" he orders, turning on the two of them in expertly suppressed fury. "He doesn't deserve your welcome." When the surprised woman does as she is told, the man fixes his cold gaze on him instead and begins, "Sora, I am very disappointed in you. We had finally found a home for you, a very good home I might point out, and you behave like this. Back to us in less than three months. I am extremely -"_

_"You lied to me."_

_The director blinks behind his thick glasses, shocked speechless that he has been interrupted by a mere child. "Excuse me?" he demands._

_"You lied to me," he repeats. "You said that she would take Roxas, too. You said I would have to wait a bit but eventually she'd take him, too. You said we'd be apart for now but in the end we'd be together." His anger and frustration grows, filling him with wild energy. His body is shaking again, but now it is because he is seconds away from losing control. "You lied to me!" he cries, tears beginning to stream from his eyes. "You_ **_lied_ ** _to me!"_

_"Of course I did," the director snaps. "This obsessive dependency you two have on each other is unacceptable. I_ **_will_ ** _get both of you to function independently, even if it means forcing you apart."_

_The last threads of control he holds slip away. His world is red and burning and full of screams. "You lied to me! You're a liar! A liar! Liar! You lied to me!_ **_Liar!_** _"_

_"Get him out of here! Find him a room in D block."_

_"But sir! Roxas is in A block."_

_"You think I don't know that? I want them as far apart from each other as possible until both of them stop this pathetic nonsense!"_

_"But sir!"_

_His voice has ceased to form words, letting out his soul's anguish in one long, piercing scream. But in his head, the words still come, and they say only one thing._

_… Liar. Liar!_ **_Liar! LIAR!_ ** _…_

xXx

"Sora," Roxas had said, "I need to tell you something about Riku."

It had been the evening of their first day at their new school. His brother had come to his room and sat down next to him on his bed. Sora remembered feeling nervous, wondering if Roxas had found out the reason behind the tension that day at lunch.

"What about him?" he had asked.

Roxas had sighed, met his gaze, and asked, "Remember Ed?"

Sora had blinked, slumped slightly, and asked back, "Riku's like Ed?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

Edgar Figaro had lived in their old neighborhood. He was five years older than they were, a senior in high school when they had first been adopted by Cloud and Aerith. Their social circles had been completely different. The only reason why they knew him at all was because he and his brother Sabin were twins, and someone had taken it upon themselves to introduce the two sets of boys, thinking they would have something in common.

Sora had really liked both Ed and Sabin. They were both really nice, and, while they disapproved of the Strifes' dependency on each other, they at least understood it. But it hadn't been long before someone else, some girl in the neighborhood, had told them about Ed's reputation as a lady-killer and a tramp. He had blown through the high school, she had said, leaving a trail of broken hearts and lost virginities in his wake. None of the girls trusted him, and most of the guys didn't like him.

Sora, in his innocence, had asked Ed about it. To this day, he could still perfectly picture the sad smile on the blond teenager's face. Lies. All of it. Ed himself was still a virgin. He had done little more than kiss the few girls he had been with. But he was extremely good-looking, his family had a serious amount of money, and he liked to flirt. His reputation had woven itself around him without him knowing it, and by the time he realized what had happened, it had completely trapped him.

When Roxas had told him that Riku was the same, Sora had felt his heart break a little for his sweet and caring boyfriend.

"It explains a lot though," he had said after a bit of silence. "He told me I was his first relationship." Roxas's eyebrows had shot up at that, and Sora had laughed. "I didn't really believe it either, but if he's like Ed, then I understand how it could have happened." He had looked down at his lap and smiled sadly. "Poor Riku," he had whispered.

And Roxas had agreed.

Now, as he watched his boyfriend chat amiably with Gippal while they waited for their turn at callbacks, Sora felt his chest swell with tender emotions for the older boy in front of him. Riku was far too wonderful to have to deal with a reputation like that. It made Sora extremely thankful that he had met the boy outside of school, before he could be poisoned against the person who was quickly becoming the most important thing in his life.

"I can't believe it. You actually outdid Larxene!"

Gippal laughed at Riku's comment and threw up his hands in a modest gesture. "Don't give me all the credit," he protested. "She's the one who wanted the shotgun wedding. I just provided the shotgun."

Sora shifted his attention to the stage where their director was currently finalizing the role of Charles Webb. Yesterday, she had said she wanted bumbling, and Pence had given her a fantastic reading. Sora hadn't realized a person could stumble and fall that many ways without seriously injuring himself. All the following actors who went for that role had done the same, although not quite as well. And then the long-haired brunet with the prosthetic limbs whom he had seen with Kadaj had walked up on the stage and proceeded to do something quite different.

"Nooj has never done a play before," Gippal was continuing, "so Larxene didn't know about him. If she had, I guarantee she would have thought of it first."

Yesterday, Nooj had begun his audition by stating he knew his way around and had permission to carry several different types of pistols, rifles, and shotguns. He had then read all of the lines in a deadpan voice that somehow managed to carry an underlying current of threat and danger.

"Well it's just brilliant," Riku told the older blond, crossing his arms and leaning against the back of a seat. "Think about the pre-wedding scene where Emily's dad gives George marriage advice! Hayner is going to shit himself."

Sora leaned forward in his seat, crossed his arms on the back of the seat in front of him, and rested his chin on his wrists. He didn't know that much about theater, but it sure looked to him like Larxene was deciding between Nooj and Pence for the role and that she was favoring Nooj. He also had a feeling that he and Roxas were already cast as the Stage Managers. A few people had auditioned for the part yesterday, the smarter ones auditioning as pairs, but the scary blonde lady hadn't smiled at them the way she had smiled at him and Roxas. Based on that and a general gut feeling, he figured the two of them were doomed.

Eventually, Gippal wandered off, and soon after that Sora was called up to do a reading with Roxas. Once they had finished, Roxas went back to Hayner and Sora returned to Riku, the two enemies and probable father-son pair sitting as far apart as possible. Kairi and Rikku had joined the junior by the time Sora arrived, and the four of them chatted together in low voices so as not to incur their director's wrath. The general consensus was that Larxene would pick "ditz" over "soccer mom" since she had dropped the bumbling version of Mr. Webb, and that meant the part of Mrs. Gibb would go to the bubbly Rikku. The fact that Riku would be "married" to Rikku amused the two girls greatly.

"It's a match made in heaven," Rikku had cooed, batting her eyelashes.

"Or in hell," Riku had returned, earning himself a smack upside the head from both girls.

Regardless of the location of the match, Larxene called them up soon afterwards, leaving Sora alone with Kairi. They continued the conversation by themselves for a bit, but soon they slipped into a companionable silence, watching the actors on the stage and enjoying each other's presence.

Sora had decided that he really liked Kairi. She was earnest and caring, cheerful like he was but also practical when it was necessary. He had to admit that he had felt slightly jealous of her at first. The easy way in which she interacted with Riku had made him feel oddly threatened. When he compared her relationship with Riku to his relationship with Roxas, however, the jealousy had eased. Just because someone else had known Riku longer than Sora had and knew him more intimately than Sora did didn't mean that Riku's feelings weren't as real or as powerful as he claimed. Sora knew that from experience; his connection with Roxas had absolutely no effect on the powerful emotions he felt every time he looked at or even thought about the older boy. Once he had come to terms with that, his appreciation and love for Kairi had absolutely skyrocketed. She was now firmly on his "best friends" list, only third from the top, behind his brother and his boyfriend.

"They work surprisingly well together," Kairi commented, referring to their two friends on-stage. "I didn't think they would. Her pacing is so frenetic and unpredictable, yet he's managing to match her at least most of the time. I'm impressed."

Sora grinned and sank lower in his seat to get more comfortable. "I guess that means Riku's a really good actor," he replied. "The guy Riku I mean."

From her position leaning against the seat in front of her, Kairi threw him a smile over her shoulder. "I knew which one you meant," she chuckled. "I've been friends with both of them for long enough to be able to tell which one people are talking about through context." Suddenly serious, she returned her gaze to the front and sighed. "Riku is a good actor," she said, voice lowering to almost a whisper. "He's had a lot of practice."

Sora cocked his head at her, wondering why such a thing would make her suddenly so sad. He held his tongue, however, not wanting to pry into a new friend's problems too much too soon. A moment later, Kairi abandoned her place on the seat in front of her and leaned back in her own seat. She turned her deep blue eyes to him, and Sora clearly saw sadness and worry in their depths.

"You and Riku, you've become good friends, haven't you?" she asked quietly.

A little thrill shuddered through Sora at her words. Yes, he and Riku had become good friends. Very good friends. More than friends. But they had both agreed to keep their relationship secret from everyone but family, so Sora slapped on a grin and immediately tried to redirect the conversation.

"I've become good friends with you, too, Kairi!"

Kairi brightened a little at his assertion, but the seriousness soon returned. "I'm glad," she said, "but Sora, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about. Something … about Riku."

_Oh. Is that what this is about?_ Sora tried very hard not to beam wildly in relief. Carefully toning down the happiness in his face, he inquired, "You mean about his reputation?"

Blue eyes blinked at him in mild surprise. "So you've heard?" she asked back.

"I've heard. Roxas told me. He heard it from Hayner."

Relieved and amused laughter bubbled up from Kairi's chest and trickled softly from her mouth. "Well, yeah," she said half to herself, "with Roxas and Hayner such good friends, there's no way you wouldn't have heard about it." Her smile returned as she continued, "If you're still friends with him after hearing all that, then I feel a bit better. Although I think I should still warn you: his reputation has the tendency to rub off on those closest to him." When Sora furrowed his brow at her in confusion, she explained, "It might be a few weeks or even months, but eventually, you'll start getting propositioned. It shouldn't be too hard on you since girls are less forceful about what they want than guys, but you should realize that, by being around Riku, you're going to attract a lot of unwanted attention."

The tight expression on her face as she said this forced understanding into Sora's mind all at once. Leaning towards her, he asked, "Have _you_ been propositioned, Kairi?"

"Yeah," she admitted darkly. "Lots." Turning away, she grumbled, "For some reason, people seem to think that just because Riku puts out to anyone who asks, that means that his friends do the same. They don't do it so much anymore, especially since Riku and Kadaj taught me a few moves to defend myself, but every so often, some idiot will come up and try to flirt, wheedle, or force his way into my pants."

The words of sympathy and support that had formed on Sora's tongue vanished as his entire body froze. A sick horror began to curl slowly in his stomach. Calmly, too calmly, he asked Kairi, "Puts out? Aren't the rumors about Riku just that? Rumors?"

The brunette laughed, tiny crystals of ice that fell from her lips and sliced into his flesh. "I wish they were just rumors," she replied. "Some of them are exaggerated, like for example I know he doesn't take more than one girl at a time. But no, our dear Riku is as much of a slut as people say he is." She sank deeply in her seat and lifted her feet to press against the chair in front of her. "It makes me sick, you know? He's such a great guy and yet he whores himself out like he doesn't care what happens. It's been two years now. Two years of screwing random girls and seduction games and blowing off the people who really care about him to go to sex parties." Her pretty face screwed up in anger and disgust. "I really hate those things. To think that the girls just pass him around, from one to the other, like … I don't know … like a hit of weed or something. He's so much better than that! But he doesn't listen to me. He blew me off as recently as last winter break to go to one of those things, can you believe it?" She sighed and shook her head. "It just makes me sick."

Sora felt numb. Cold. Kairi's words were reaching him, but it felt like they were sliding through his mind, slipping on the ice and falling through, never finding a hand- or foothold to keep them around long enough to sink in. He knew he should be reacting more, should be feeling more, but he was just so cold inside. So terribly, terribly cold.

"What do you mean 'seduction games'?" he asked, the question issuing from between frozen lips of its own accord.

Kairi snorted in disgust and tossed her head. "It's something he's started doing only recently," she answered. "He has this bizarre rule with himself that he'll only sleep with a girl if she asks him first." A short bark of bitter laughter escaped her. "I told him that's hardly putting a restriction on himself since he's so hot that any girl who's loose enough to sleep with him in the first place is going to be willing to make the first move. But lately, in the past year or so, he's been going after girls who wouldn't normally ask. Seducing them, breaking them down little by little until they're practically begging to sleep with him. He treats it like a game, like a challenge. _God!_ " She smashed her fist onto the armrest. "He makes me _so mad_ at him! So mad I could scream."

For a beat, she said nothing further, her fingers drumming on the armrest the only sign of her continued irritation. Then, she sighed and tilted her head back against the seat. "It doesn't matter how much I'm mad at him though," she commented. "I'm not going to give up on him. He's better than this, I know he is, and I'm not going to give up until he sees it. Maybe …" She turned to the boy beside her, an idea gradually forming. "Maybe you could help me, Sora."

At the sound of his name, Sora woke from his prison of ice. Survival instincts kicked in, told him he needed to respond. Kairi was talking to him, and unless he wanted to let her know right here that his soul had frozen and was beginning to shatter, he needed to throw on some masks and go through the motions of being all right.

"Help you?" he echoed, his voice sounding flat and lifeless to his own ears. "How?"

Kairi's idea had excited her far too much to allow her to notice his distress. "If the two of us worked together, I bet we could convince Riku to stop throwing his body around like some cheap whore." She gathered up his hands in hers and asked, "What do you say, Sora? Will you help me?" Before Sora could find enough willpower to respond, however, Kairi leaned back a bit, surprised, and then leaned forward again, concerned. "Are you okay, Sora?" she suddenly asked. "Your hands are cold and your face is pale."

Sora swallowed, feeling sick. "I'm okay," he managed.

"Are you sure? You look like you're going to pass out."

"I'll be fine," he insisted. Carefully, he retrieved his hands from Kairi's and rose to his feet. "I think I'll take a quick walk in the halls," he said, voice a near-whisper. "I'll be right back."

"Sora?" Kairi's voice stopped him before he could exit the row. Turning back to her, he saw a flood of worry in her eyes. And something else, something that looked like guilt. "I didn't chase you away from him, did I?" she asked, and Sora knew that she had begun to piece it all together. Before he could respond or just turn tail and flee, she continued, "I really hope I didn't. He needs someone like you, Sora. He needs friends to support him, and I'm just not enough."

He didn't say anything in reply. He couldn't say anything. So instead, he just smiled, turned, and fled up the aisle as quickly as he could go without outright running. Once he was out of the auditorium, he walked down the nearest hall to the main office - empty this late in the afternoon - and sat down on the bench outside the door. He pulled his legs up, dug his heels into the edge of the bench, wrapped his arms around his calves, and settled his chin in his knees, a tight ball of stillness, staring at the world with unseeing eyes.

Inside, however, he was drowning. The cold glacier had given way to a typhoon of violent emotions. There was anger and betrayal. There was shock and humiliation and grief. But most of all there was pain. The pain outweighed all else. The pain of knowing that his sweet, tender Riku, his perfect boyfriend who made him so very happy, was only an illusion. A fake. False.

_A liar …_

If it had been anyone else, Sora would have been able to brush the accusations against Riku aside. But the information had come from _Kairi_ , and because of that, he had to believe that it was the truth. Kairi knew Riku better than anyone else; if anyone knew the difference between fact and rumor, it would be her. He had no choice but to believe every terrible, heart-breaking word.

He had been played, or at least, that was how it looked when he thought about it. Kairi had said that Riku liked to seduce people for the challenge of the thing. She had only talked about him going after girls, but it was far too easy to imagine the blond boy branching out into boys for the additional difficulty. Sora didn't feel like he had been seduced, but then, that was part of a successful seduction, wasn't it? To feel like it had happened naturally, to believe that the other person was sincere only to find that you were wrong? And all that talk about going at Sora's pace, waiting until he was ready … hadn't Kairi said that part of Riku's game was to get the other person to ask for it? To _beg_ for it?

Oh God, it hurt. He had been played. Used. And it hurt _so much_ …

There was no way now that Sora could trust anything that Riku had ever said to him. For Sora, trust, once lost, could never be regained. He had been lied to too many times in his short life, hurt too many times. It didn't matter that Riku himself hadn't been anything but kind to Sora so far. The older boy had lied to him, and that was sin enough.

It had to end. Their relationship, their friendship, everything. And so, he would end it, even though he felt that, by doing so, he would be tearing out his own heart and ripping it to pieces.

Footsteps broke into his thoughts, and Sora focused his eyes to find Riku himself walking towards him. A fresh wave of pain crashed over Sora at the sight of him. The other boy was just so beautiful. No wonder he had convinced so many girls to share his bed. Sora felt like a fool.

"Sora? Are you okay? Kairi said you weren't feeling well."

Riku's face was a perfect example of compassion and concern. His forehead was slightly furrowed to show his worry. His eyes were clouded to mask their emotion, but they flitted back and forth over Sora's face and body, looking for anything out of sorts. His smile was strained, the corners of his lips pulling upwards but only a little as if fighting the desire to frown instead. Yes, Riku was a consummate actor. Sora could almost believe that Riku was actually concerned about him.

Carefully, so as not to disturb his internal maelstrom too much, Sora slid his legs out of his arms' grasp and stood up. Riku stopped a few paces away, surprise taking over his face and becoming the dominant emotion. Sora supposed he must look a sight; he certainly felt like a right mess and he wasn't very good at hiding his true thoughts from others like Riku was.

"Riku," he said, and he noted how the sound of his name in Sora's dead tones made the older boy flinch, "I need to talk to you."

"Um, okay," Riku replied hesitatingly. Green eyes quickly shot side to side to check who else was around. "Right now?" he asked.

"Yes," Sora answered. There were a few other students farther back, at the end of the hallway near the auditorium, but Sora didn't care about them. They wouldn't be able to hear anything as long as he and Riku didn't start shouting, and he didn't think he would have the energy to raise his voice.

"Okay." Riku's hands clenched and unclenched a few times before he simply shoved them in his pockets. "What about?"

"Kairi told me about you."

It was almost satisfying to see the way Riku froze at those words. It was confirmation of a sorts, too. But whether he was holding onto some stupid form of hope or whether he just wanted to probe at the pain a bit more in some even more stupid form of masochism, Sora wanted to hear it from Riku himself. "Is it true?" he asked, voice level and oh so dull. "Have you been sleeping around for two years now? Do you try to seduce girls for the fun of it? Tell me the truth, Riku. I want to hear it from you. Are you the school slut?"

That beautiful, perfect face was a picture of despair and regret, but Sora focused only on those soft lips that had kissed him so lovingly and watched as they moved just enough to let the whisper pass through.

"It's true."

He didn't think it could hurt more, but it did. Like a punch in the chest. Like a bullet to the forehead. Sharp, fast pain that took his breath away and left a lingering, festering ache. Before, he had been too numb to cry. Now, the tears began to form, fast and hot.

"I see," he said, and he noted with a kind of fear that his voice was beginning to choke. "Thank you for telling me the truth. I'm sure you can understand why, though, when I say that I can no longer trust you." He was shaking now, tears blurring his vision. "I'm sorry, Riku, but we can't be together any longer. It's over."

He waited a handful of seconds, just to see if Riku would say anything. To defend himself, to get Sora to change his mind, anything. But the other boy stayed completely silent, so Sora forced his feet to move. He passed by Riku, close enough for his ex-boyfriend to reach out and grab him, to beg him not to go. But nothing happened, and Sora went on by. And then, when he was several steps beyond Riku, he broke out into a run and dashed down the hall.

Near-blinded as he was by his tears, he didn't notice who it was that he ran by on the way to the doors, outside, and the chance to be alone. A few voices called his name, but he didn't care because none of them were Riku's. Riku wasn't chasing him. Riku was letting him go.

Utterly heart-broken, Sora crashed through the doors to the parking lot and fled into the January sun.


	33. Kadaj

_It hits him all at once, like being thwacked on the head with a wiffle bat - something that Loz did to him before, so he knows what it feels like. He has known for a long time now that their family is different. Most kids have a Daddy and a Mommy, one of each. He only has a Daddy. He had a Mommy once, but now she is gone. He always knew that, like knowing that he has two arms and one nose. It's a fact that is there, but it's not important._

_Except that now,_ **_now_** _, he Understands. All at once, he looks over at his little brother, playing quietly next to him, and he Understands. He had a Mommy once. She was there, she was real, but now she's gone and she's never coming back. Not ever. He will_ **_never_ ** _have a Mommy now, and_ **_it's all Riku's fault!_ **

_His small fingers seize the closest thing, a plastic fire truck, and lift it into the air. With a wild cry like the howl of a wounded animal, he brings it down as hard as he can on his little brother's head. Riku topples over, and he follows him to the ground, bashing the truck against the smaller boy's head and shoulders. Again and again. His screams drown out Riku's plaintive cries as the truck goes up, then down, up, then down …_

_It's his fault. His Mommy is gone, gone forever, and it's because of him. It's_ **_his fault_** _!_

_Suddenly, Gram is there, pulling him away from Riku and wrestling the truck from his grasp. She says nothing to him, only carries him over to his booster seat at the table and buckles him in before walking away. His screams worsen, and he pounds his fists on the table and kicks his legs against the chair, demanding to be released, to continue pounding his brother into mush. Through his tears, he can see Gram tending to Riku, calming him down and taking him upstairs. He screeches after the both of them, protesting this unfair treatment both for him and for the smaller boy who doesn't deserve Gram's kindness, not after what he's done._

_By the time Gram returns, he has screamed himself into exhaustion. Sitting limp in his chair, he glares at her, and when she begins to undo his buckles, he tries to bite her. She avoids him easily. Within moments, she lifts up his wriggling body and takes him to the TV room where she sits on the couch with him on her lap._

_"Now," she says, "what was that all about, sir?"_

_He scowls fiercely, but it is ruined by his persistent tears. "… he … Mommy … he …"_

_Gram understands. She wraps her arms around him and holds him tightly until he stops struggling and just cries. Eventually, his tears stop, and then Gram begins to speak._

_"Kadaj, darling, I want you to make me a promise. You're such a strong, brave little boy. I want you to promise me that you'll always take care of Riku."_

_"No!" he responds immediately. "Don't wanna!"_

_Gram strokes his hair and pretends like she hasn't heard him. "Riku is such a little thing. He needs your protection. Someday, he's going to realize the same thing you just realized, and all that anger that you were feeling, he's going to feel, too. Except he's going to feel it towards himself. He's going to need someone to protect him, and as his big brother, that responsibility is yours, Kadaj."_

_"No!" he insists. "Let Yaz do it. I don't wanna!"_

_"But Kadaj, my dear," she smiles, tipping his face up to look at her, "Yazoo is busy protecting you. And Loz is protecting Yazoo. You're the only one Riku has left. He's depending on you. I know you're angry at him right now and I know that there will be many times while you're growing up when you don't like him and end up fighting with him, but in spite of that, I want you to always remember that you are his big brother and you are the one who has to protect him when he needs it. Okay, Kadaj?"_

_He is crying again, but there is a calmness in his chest that wasn't there before. And a little bit of something else as well. He is still mad at Riku, but he can't help but feel proud that Gram is entrusting the other boy to him. His heart feels lighter than before for some reason. Lighter and larger._

_"Okay," he says._

_"Promise me that you'll take care of him. That you'll protect him always."_

_He swallows, and, very slowly, he smiles. "I promise."_

xXx

It was pure luck that he was there. He wasn't supposed to be there. But on a pure whim, he and Baralai had decided to hang around at the library after school and then meet up with Gippal and Nooj after they had finished what they needed to do for the play. It was even due to luck that they were in the hall instead of still in the library. Baralai had wanted to stay a bit longer, but Kadaj had been bored stiff and insisted on leaving. And so they were in the hall, just outside the auditorium doors, when a little brown-haired blur went flying by in tears and slammed into the doors that led to the parking lot.

Baralai raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Hmm," he pondered aloud. "Wonder what's wrong." Obviously unconcerned, he shrugged lightly and turned back to Kadaj, intending to continue their conversation.

Kadaj, however, was already moving. Seeing Sora go by had surprised him, but the shock had only lasted a second. Those tears could only mean one thing, and it wasn't good. Feeling a solid lump of dread sitting heavily in his stomach, the blond senior quickly walked in the direction from which Sora had come. He barely heard Baralai call his name once before running to catch up with him.

Kadaj had a reputation of being a cruel, crazy sonuvabitch, even - if not especially - to his brothers. He loved pulling pranks, loved getting in fights more, and had a sadistic side that drove most people, even the violence-loving Seifer, to give him a wide berth. Over the years, he had gotten into so many public scraps with Riku that only those closest to the two boys didn't wonder why one or the other of them hadn't ended up dead yet. No one, however, not even his three best friends, knew about his promise to his grandmother to protect his younger brother. Only Riku knew that, and not even he knew just how deeply Kadaj cherished that promise and how seriously he took it.

The moment Sora had gone running by, Kadaj knew that Riku needed him. Riku needed him to protect and shield him. Perhaps more than he had ever needed anyone before.

Riku was halfway down the connecting hall, right in front of the principal's office, facing the opposite direction. He was standing at first, but as Kadaj approached him, the younger boy slowly fell to his knees, as if his legs had simply stopped working. His upper body crumpled next, and by the time Kadaj reached him, his brother was on all fours, his hands just barely keeping him from collapsing onto the floor completely.

"Riku," Kadaj murmured, dropping down beside the other boy. "What happened?"

Riku was crying, the tears running down his cheeks and falling to the tiled floor between his shaking hands. "He found out," he whispered, confirming Kadaj's suspicions. "He found out and he left me. He left me, 'Daj."

Kadaj blew out a breath and sat back on his heels to assess the situation. Baralai had stopped a few paces away, clearly concerned but politely staying out of it until he was requested. That was fine. What worried Kadaj was the small knot of girls that had formed at the end of the hallway. They were whispering among themselves, and as he watched, one of them peeled off and ran away, probably to fetch others. _That_ was bad. Very bad.

Determined, Kadaj leaned back in to Riku and laid a hand on his brother's back. "You have to pull yourself together," he told him. "I realize you're hurting right now, but you have to put on a brave face, at least until we can get out of here. If you don't, there's going to be scandal. It's going to be all over the school by tomorrow morning."

To his disappointment if not his surprise, Riku laughed at him. "You think I care?" he said, turning incredulous green eyes on the older boy. "You think I actually care what anyone thinks of me now? I've lost Sora, Kadaj. I've lost him!"

"I know," Kadaj replied, keeping his voice soothing but still strong. "I know you don't care now. But you will. Trust me, you will. So please. Please, Riku."

His brother stared at him, open surprise radiating from his watery eyes. Kadaj had never pleaded with Riku for anything. But Riku had never been this distraught before, and he had never before been in such a dangerous position. Kadaj knew that if it got around that Riku, who was known for his confidence and coolness, had broken down in the middle of the hallways and, God forbid, if anyone figured out _why_ he had broken down, it would be social death for the younger boy. The rest of this year and his entire senior year would be pure hell. Kadaj desperately wanted to protect him from that, as much if not more than he wanted to comfort Riku and help him deal with his broken heart.

"I know all you want to do is cry until your heart stops," Kadaj said, holding those green eyes with his own, "but you can't. You have to be a Gast, Riku. Put on that mask and tie it down tight. At least until I can get you somewhere safe."

Riku's throat worked as he swallowed, his eyes never leaving his older brother's, and slowly, his face began to shut down. Kadaj watched with satisfaction as the mask settled over the other boy's features, and when he judged it to be firmly in place, he rose to his feet and offered his hand to help Riku up. His brother accepted the assistance and carefully wiped the remaining tears from his face.

While Riku finished pulling himself together, Kadaj motioned to Baralai. "I'm taking Riku home," he told his friend when the other had come closer. "Do me a favor and go get his stuff for me. Gippal will be able to help you find it." Baralai nodded and was about to move away when another thought occurred to him. "Also, ask Gip to help you find a kid called Roxas. Tell him that his brother Sora just ran outside without his coat."

"Thanks, 'Daj," Riku said once Baralai had left.

"No problem," Kadaj returned, slipping his arm around his brother's shoulders and his trademark grin onto his face. "Think you can smile at those girls as we go by?"

Riku didn't reply, but his lips pulled upwards into a fairly convincing copy of his regular smile. Satisfied, Kadaj pulled him forward, starting up a string of inane chatter that was going full swing by the time the two of them exited the hall and turned towards the parking lot. A few more steps and they were outside, although Kadaj didn't fully let his guard down until he had unlocked the door to the car, watched Riku slip inside, and closed the door behind him. Only then did the senior relax, turning back towards the school to wait for Baralai.

At that very moment, someone was exiting the school, heading in his direction, but Kadaj realized with a jolt that it wasn't the friend he was expecting. Concerned, he broke out into a run, intent on catching her before she got too close to the car.

"Kadaj!" she cried as they came together on the sidewalk. "What is going on? Sora looked like he was going to be sick and left, and when I told Riku about it, he left, and then Roxas went running out and Baralai told me you were taking Riku home. _What_ is going _on_?"

"Ah, Kairi!" Kadaj said breezily, reaching for the coat and bag she held in her arms. "How sweet of you to bring Riku's things for me. Thank you!"

Kairi let him have the coat, but she held on tightly to one strap of the bag and refused to let it go. "Answer me, Kadaj," she ordered, frowning darkly at him. "Something is going on, and I want to know what it is!" Her expression told in him no uncertain terms that she was not going to put up with his usual antics right now. She had known him far too long to be fooled by them.

Realizing that he was not going to escape from her that easily, Kadaj exhaled a small sigh and took a moment to simply look at the girl in front of him. Obviously, Riku hadn't told her anything about his relationship with Sora, and Kadaj wasn't one to spill his brother's secrets, not when he had so many of his own that he wanted kept. But there was something very wrong about this situation, and the feeling just kept getting worse the longer he looked at that worried face. He didn't particularly like the thought of Kairi being kept in the dark. Plus, he was pretty sure he was going to need backup when he finally got around to trying to cheer Riku up.

Deciding to just barge on ahead and deal with any possible fallout with his brother later, Kadaj let go of the bag, propped his hands on his hips, and stated, "Riku just had his heart broken. I'm taking him home so he can mourn in private."

Kairi's face smoothed out, confusion and concern replacing the anger and worry. "He what?" she asked. "How did he … ?" Her eyes widened as pieces began to fall into place. "Do you mean … Sora?"

Kadaj didn't answer; he let his expression speak for him. Kairi's free hand flew to her mouth in horror.

"Oh my God! Riku … and Sora … All those things I said. … Sora must have … And then Riku … oh my God …"

"You're the one who told Sora then. About 'Ku's reputation."

She shook her head at him. "No, he knew about it. But he thought they were just rumors. He didn't think it was true. And I …"

Kadaj sighed again and ran the fingers of one hand through his hair. "You went on one of your rants, letting Sora know that it was true, and Sora, thinking he had been two-timed or something, broke up with 'Ku." He shook his head and looked up at the darkening sky. "Christ, what a mess."

A little whimpering sound brought his attention back down to Earth. Kairi had fisted her hand against her closed mouth. She looked like she was about to cry. Not wanting to have two people falling to pieces on him, Kadaj turned slightly away and made to leave.

"Anyway," he said pointedly, "I'm going to take him home."

Kairi immediately looked up and took the bait. "I'm going with you," she stated.

Kadaj just shrugged and started walking towards the car, pretending that that hadn't been his intention in the first place. Kairi fell into step beside him, hugging Riku's bag close as if holding it tightly could somehow comfort its owner. When they got to the car, he popped the trunk and let her throw both her own bag and Riku's inside before closing it and walking around to the side to open the doors.

Riku had started crying again while he was gone, his head buried in his hands, but he looked up when he heard two doors opening instead of one. "Kairi?" he choked out as she slid into the back seat. "Why are you here?"

"She's here because she's your best friend, you ass!" Kadaj answered, slamming his door closed.

Riku grabbed him by the wrist desperately. "You … You didn't … ?"

"I did," the older boy snapped, suddenly feeling angry with his brother. "And if you had done it instead of me, none of this would have happened in the first place!" He shook off Riku's hand and jammed the key into the ignition.

"Riku, I'm so sorry!" Kairi cried, leaning forward to grip her friend by the shoulder. "It's my fault. But I didn't mean it! I didn't know!"

"Kairi … I …"

"All right, both of you shut up," Kadaj ordered, shifting the car into reverse and backing out of the space. "There will be plenty of time to howl and whine when we get home, so let me drive in peace. Kairi, put your belt on now. You're going to need it with the way I drive."

The girl obeyed, and a moment later, Kadaj was tearing out of the parking lot. A little less than five minutes later, the car screeched into the Gasts' driveway, and Kadaj slammed the gear shift to 'Park'. He was still rather pissed at Riku for not telling Kairi about his relationship with Sora. If what the girl had said was true and Sora had originally believed that Riku's reputation was exaggerations and malicious slanders, his brother just might have had a chance at something none of the four of them had ever dreamed they could obtain: a steady, long-term relationship. But that was all ruined now, and Kadaj couldn't help but feel annoyance at the younger blond for what he felt was an act of stupidity.

As soon as the car had come to a stop, Kairi had unbuckled her seatbelt and jumped out of the car to run around to Riku's door. While Kadaj took a moment to get his violent emotions under control, she had coaxed her best friend out of the car and was leading him to the front door. Not wanting to be left behind, Kadaj exited the car as well and strode past the pair of them to unlock and open the door. Kairi thanked him with a smile and, once they had entered the house, immediately guided Riku up to his room, saying that he would feel more comfortable there. Kadaj just shrugged and followed. For now, his need to protect his brother had been eased; he was willing to step aside for the moment and let someone else take care of Riku.

Once they had all assembled in the youngest Gast's bedroom, the ties that had held Riku's mask in place during their escape completely fell away. He had barely made it to his own bed before he started to cry in earnest, great heaving sobs that made it sound like he was choking or having an asthma attack. Instantly, Kairi was at his side, encouraging him to lie down with his head in her lap. Once she had maneuvered him there, she began to soothe him tenderly with her hands and shush him quietly with her voice. Every so often, she would look up to catch Kadaj's eye as he stood leaning against the wall just inside the door. He had nothing to say to her. He felt rather awkward watching his brother fall apart, but he couldn't bring himself to leave either. And so he stayed and said nothing.

Eventually, Riku's sobs quieted down and then stopped altogether. For a brief moment, Kadaj thought he had fallen asleep, but then he shifted slightly and opened swollen green eyes. "Sorry," the younger blond rasped, not lifting his head from Kairi's lap.

"It's okay," Kairi assured him, running her fingers through his hair. "Are you okay now? Can you talk about it? Can you tell me what happened?"

Riku nodded and carefully pushed himself upright. Slowly, hesitatingly, he began to explain everything about his relationship with Sora: when he had first seen the boy, how the two had met, and what had happened between them. Kadaj had heard most of it before. After all, he had been the one to go ask for details about Sora way back in October, he had been there in December when Yuffie had set up their first meeting, and, once he knew his little brother had a crush on the kid, he had forced Riku to tell him all about their date, threatening to go back on his promise to Yazoo if Riku didn't give him every last detail. The one thing that surprised even him, though, was when Riku admitted that he had been completely celibate ever since that day three months ago when he had first set eyes on the brunet boy. That more than anything else, even more than Riku's admission of love, shocked him and convinced him that his brother was deadly serious about Sora.

"Oh, Riku," Kairi sighed when the boy finally stopped speaking. "I wish I had known all this. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Sorry," Riku said again.

Feeling his previous irritation rising again, Kadaj huffed and declared, "'Sorry' isn't going to cut it this time, 'Ku. I also want to know why you never told Kairi any of this. I mean," he added, tossing his head back, "I know you and I like to keep our cards close to our chests, but even I would trust her with my secrets. Certainly before my own friends, anyway." He grimaced lightly at the thought of revealing his true self to his small gang. They were good guys, all three of them, but he would never think of betting something as important as his heart on their loyalty. Kairi's loyalty to Riku, however, he would never question.

Said girl was staring at him wide-eyed, her cheeks dusted with a hint of pink. "Th-thanks, Kadaj," she said.

Instead of responding, he waved her off and focused his intense gaze on his brother. One eyebrow lifted to add extra pressure on him. He wanted that answer.

"It's not a matter of trust," Riku finally said, looking away. "I trust Kairi. I do. But when it came to Sora, I … I just …" He pulled his legs up onto the bed with him and wrapped his arms around them, seemingly trying to make himself as small a target as possible. "I wanted to sever myself from my past," he said miserably. "All of it. I wanted to approach Sora as just myself, without any of the lies that I've wrapped myself in over the years. It was stupid of me, I know. Almost everything I've done has been incredibly stupid. But I thought, maybe, if I could be with Sora just as myself and no one else, then maybe it would last just a little bit longer."

Kadaj exhaled gently and leaned his head back against the wall. That made a lot of sense to him, more than he would like to admit. "Okay, I get it," he conceded. "I agree with you that it's stupid, but at least I understand."

"Well, I don't," Kairi interjected, frowning at the pair of them. "However," she sighed, "I suppose I can let it go. It's done and can't be undone. What's important now is figuring out how we're going to fix this."

Two sets of green eyes blinked at her in incomprehension. "What do you mean 'fix' it?" Riku asked.

She blinked right on back. "What do you mean what do I mean?" she demanded. "I mean we're going to fix it! We're going to get you and Sora back together."

"Oh please, Kairi," Kadaj scoffed as Riku's face fell and he looked away. "I realize you're a girl so you have the right to be overly romantic, but you don't need to be so naïve."

"I'm not being naïve," Kairi protested, turning on him with a glare. "It's pretty clear that Sora likes Riku just as much as Riku likes him. With a little bit of work, we should be able to get Sora to forgive him and give him another chance."

"No," Kadaj stated. "It won't work." He turned his head to look out Riku's window. Outside, it was nearly pitch-black, the effect of the winter-shortened days. The dark void perfectly matched his suddenly somber and melancholy mood. "You forgot something important," he told Kairi. "You forgot who he is. Who both of us are. We're not normal. Perhaps a normal couple could have worked through this, made up, and moved on, but not one of us." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, unconsciously reverting to his false, preening self. "Love and relationships are for other people, not for messed up freaks like us."

For a moment, Kairi did and said nothing; she simply looked back and forth between the two blonds, neither of whom would meet her eyes. But then, she rose from the bed, took a few steps to the center of the room, dug her fists into her hips, and stamped - actually _stamped_ \- one foot on the floor.

"I'm sick of this!" she announced, shocking them both. "I've kept my mouth shut and just put up with it for eight years, but this is the final straw. The whole lot of you are a bunch of whiny babies!" Mockingly, she raised a hand to her eyes and pretended to cry. "Oh, boo hoo, our lives suck because we're Gasts. Pity us, but don't expect us to change or actually do anything about it."

Instantly furious, Kadaj pushed off of the wall and advanced on her. "Shut up!" he shouted. "What would _you_ know about it? You have _no idea_ what we've had to deal with all our lives. Constantly being targeted because of our looks, surrounded on all sides by people who are out for all they can get, ready to stab us in the backs the second they have the chance. And then at home, not a shred of love or support. Just standards to live up to. Expectations. Rules. Like a fucking _boot camp_! How _dare_ you accuse us of whining? Of acting like our lives aren't _pure hell!_ "

"Guys, don't fight," Riku protested weakly, but Kairi was already barreling over him.

"You think you're the only ones who have a difficult home life?" she challenged, getting right in the tall boy's face without a shred of fear. "You think you're the only ones to grow up without a mother or without parental affection? You have so much to be thankful for, but you're so caught up in your self-pity that you can't see it! Are you being abused? Sexually assaulted? Are you starving? Freezing? Are you living in filth? Is your dad a drunk or on drugs? Tons of people have to live like that all over the world, and yet they get by. They pull themselves up and they succeed because they don't use their misfortunes as an excuse for laziness the way you guys do."

Kadaj snarled at her. "It's not a fucking _excuse_!"

"Yes, it _is_!" she insisted, cutting him off from saying more. "You use your family name like a shield, like one of your masks that you all can't seem to live without. You're all too scared to grow up and _deal_ with your problems instead of running away and crying to yourselves about how it was inevitable because you're Gasts and that's the way it has to be." She paused for a second to suck in a deep breath before finishing, "I am sick of watching you guys hide from your problems instead of confronting them. I don't care about an effing pussy like you, Kadaj, but Riku's too wonderful a guy and too good a friend for me to just sit by and let this happen to him. I am going to get him and Sora back together if it's the last thing I do, and by God, you two are going to help me whether you like it or not!"

For a good long minute after Kairi had finished, no one moved. Kadaj just stood there, staring at Kairi with wide eyes, she stared back with her frown unchanged, and Riku meekly watched the both of them with his hands partially shielding his face. Then, carefully, Kadaj cleared his throat once and asked, "Did you just call me 'an effing pussy'?"

Kairi had obviously not been expecting that particular question, but she rallied quickly and answered in a strong tone, "Yes. I did."

He couldn't help it. Kadaj started to laugh. Jaggedly at first, little bursts escaping through his lips as he tried to keep it back, and then unrestrainedly. He had to step backwards towards the wall and brace himself against it with a hand to keep from falling over, and still, he laughed and laughed and couldn't stop.

Confused and mildly affronted, Kairi puffed herself up like a kitten trying to be threatening. "What?" she demanded. "What's so funny?"

"You are," he told her between gasps for breath. "Trying to swear … and … and failing." Now properly insulted, the girl opened her mouth to shout at him some more, but Kadaj pushed off of the wall and swooped her up in a tight hug, effectively shocking her into complete silence. "You win," he said, still trying to get himself under control. "You win, Kairi. I'll help you patch things up between Sora and 'Ku."

The rigid body in his arms softened a bit, and she tilted her head back to look up at him with big blue eyes. "Really?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yeah." And then, letting her go, he slipped to the floor, half-curled around himself, and proceeded to laugh until his stomach hurt.

Kadaj would never admit this to Kairi, or to anyone else for that matter, but he was being affected by more than her pathetic attempt at swearing. Part of him was angry and wanted to push his fist into her pretty face for calling him a coward and implying that it was his own fault that his life sucked so badly. But a larger part of him was extremely impressed with her. He had always known that she was loyal to his brother, but she had guts, too, which he hadn't realized. Guts and determination, enough to match tempers with Kadaj. It made him feel giddy inside.

Hope did not come easy to the Gast boys. They had learned at an early age to keep it caged and keep it small lest it grow too large and be smashed. And yet, at this moment, a mixture of hope and joy was burning brightly in Kadaj's chest, bubbling up into a geyser of irrepressible giggles that kept on coming even though Kairi had already rolled her eyes at him in exasperation and turned her attention to Riku. There was a chance. He could feel it. With someone like Kairi around, supporting him, pushing him, Riku might actually have some semblance of a possibility of success. That was, without a doubt, the most heartening thought that Kadaj had ever had. Because if Riku could find and keep love, then maybe, just maybe, Kadaj could, too. Some day.


	34. Roxas

_"I'm going to get a snack," he says as he closes his American History textbook. "Sora, you want anything?"_

_"Sure," his brother answers. "I'll take some chips or something."_

_"Okay. Be right back."_

_He exits their shared bedroom and wanders down the stairs to the kitchen. Before he can enter, however, he hears it: the soft sound of tears. Surprised, he stops in the hallway and carefully peeks around the doorframe into the room. His mother is sitting at the table, her elbows resting on the surface and her face hidden by her hands. Her shoulders are shaking slightly in her near-silent grief._

_Concerned, he runs into the room to be at her side. "Mom! What's wrong?"_

_He gets a very short glimpse of surprised green eyes and tear-stained cheeks before she is hiding her face from him again, wiping the wetness away quickly. "I-it's … it's nothing, sweetheart," she says, and she forces a small laugh. When she looks up at him again, her face is dry and her smile is bright. "I just realized that you two are going to be fifteen in a couple of weeks. Time goes so fast! I guess it just got to me for a moment."_

_He frowns at her weak excuse and says disapprovingly, "Mom, don't lie to me."_

_Something in the way he says it makes her flinch. For a moment, she simply looks at him sadly, but then she is reaching out to him and drawing him into her embrace. "I'm sorry, Roxas," she murmurs into his shoulder. "I forgot just how much you and Sora have been through. How much lies affect you."_

_When he says nothing in response and makes no move to return her touch, she sighs and continues, "I didn't do it to hurt you. I promise I didn't. Neither your father nor I would ever lie to you if it meant either of you would be hurt. But Roxas …" She pulls back to hold him at arms' length and gaze into his eyes. "Sometimes people lie to keep_ **_themselves_ ** _from being hurt. I know it's still not right. It's still not the truth. But sometimes it's so hard to resist the temptation to protect yourself." Pulling him back in, she asks quietly, "Do you think you can forgive me? For being human? For being afraid of pain?"_

_Her appeal is so soft, so fragile, that he almost wants to cry himself. Instead, he slips his arms around her and squeezes her gently. "Yes," he replies. "I can forgive you, Mom."_

_"Thank you." She lifts her head, leans up, and kisses him lightly on the cheek._

_After returning the gesture with one of his own, he asks, "Will you tell me now why you were crying?"_

_She smiles. "No. But I promise you that it's nothing you need to worry about." Two tears bead up in her eyes, but she blinks them away before they can fall. Softly, she adds, "And that's the truth."_

xXx

Something was wrong. Roxas could feel it in his heart. When the feeling had started, he had looked for Sora but had been unable to find him. Kairi was still sitting in the same place, but she was all alone. A quick scan of the auditorium had Roxas coming up empty as well. After a moment, he realized that he hadn't seen Riku anywhere either, and the warning feeling turned sour and sank into his stomach.

A few minutes passed, and Roxas was completely on edge. Neither Sora nor Riku had reappeared. Not knowing what else to do, he kept his eyes fixed on Kairi, the last person to be with his brother and presumably the one he'd come back to eventually. The thought crossed his mind to go look for Sora, but he dismissed it. He had no idea which direction his twin had gone and could therefore end up going the opposite way and miss him coming back. No, he would wait, even though it felt like something inside of him was coiling tighter and tighter, getting ready to spring loose or explode.

"Excuse me. Are you Roxas?"

Roxas jumped slightly. Fixated as he was on Kairi, he had completely missed that someone had just walked up to him and was now standing in the aisle at his side. He shifted his attention to find a blond stranger before him, gazing at him with soft if slightly worried eyes. The voice that had spoken to him had been equally soft with an underlying current of calmness that would have soothed Roxas's nerves on any other occasion.

"Yes," he answered the stranger's question, wondering who this person was and why he was here. "That's me."

A small smile settled onto the other boy's face. "My name is Baralai," he introduced himself. "I am a friend of Kadaj Gast. He sent me to tell you that your brother just went outside without his coat. You may wish to bring it to him."

Roxas's initial confusion about why Riku's brother's friend was here talking to him was swept away by a tidal wave of anxiety the moment the word "brother" crossed Baralai's lips. The message was extremely innocuous, but Roxas could tell from the slight worry in the older boy's face and the way his eyes kept flicking over at Hayner and Olette, who had stopped their conversation to listen, that something was terribly wrong.

Trying to keep his nervousness to acceptable levels, he leapt to his feet and demanded, "Where is he?"

"He went out the doors to the parking lot and turned left," Baralai answered. "After that, I don't know."

"Hey, Roxas," Hayner began, rising to his feet as well. "What's the - ?"

But Roxas never heard the end of his friend's question. The second he had his answer from Baralai, he was moving. He sprinted up the aisle like a man possessed, and within moments, he was outside and turning away from the mass of cars on the right to follow the building's external wall instead.

For years, the worst thing that could happen in Roxas's world was for him to be separated from Sora. The moment his twin was taken from him, he would begin to panic. His heart would race and his limbs would shake. His lungs would stutter and his stomach would clench. He would frequently cry or scream or both, and if anyone tried to calm him down or force him to do something, he often would become violent, punching and kicking and throwing things. The only thing that would calm him down was being given back his brother. It wasn't just that he wanted Sora to be with him; he _needed_ his twin to function properly. The world just wasn't right without him.

All through their childhood, the people in charge of them had tried to break them apart for their own good. They had tried all kinds of methods, some kind, some cruel, but Sora and Roxas always won out in the end. The adults simply hadn't had the time or the patience that the twins needed to free them from the bonds they had wrapped around each other. Only when they had been adopted by Cloud and Aerith did someone have the ability to focus all of their attention on the boys and slowly, gently, pry them far enough apart that, while they were still attached to each other, someone else could finally slip in between them. However, just because they could now go for large portions of the day without each other didn't mean that the dependency they had once had was completely gone from their systems. It still lurked there in their hearts, suppressed but still present.

At this moment, as he ran along the school's perimeter towards the front of the building, Roxas felt it like he hadn't felt it for years. The panic was there again, rising up rapidly and threatening to break him down. He needed Sora, and he could tell that Sora needed him. The pounding of his heart was from more than the run, and the tears that were beginning to blind him had nothing to do with the cold wind whipping at his face. The world was slowly but surely turning upside down, and only Sora could make it right again.

"Sora!" he cried as he rounded the corner, eyes scanning desperately over the seemingly empty space.

"Roxas?" came the soft but hopeful reply from a nearby clump of bushes. Instantly, Roxas dove behind them and threw his arms around his shaking, weeping brother. Sora released his deathgrip on his own knees to transfer it to Roxas instead, holding onto the blond twin's shirt with an iron grip.

"I'm here," Roxas whispered to the brunet mop of hair beneath his chin. "I'm here now, Sora. It's okay."

"Roxas …" Sora choked out before a fresh wave of tears claimed him. He buried his face in his brother's neck and sobbed, his small frame shaking with the force of his sadness.

As his brother's tears began to soak through his shirt into his skin, Roxas's panic slowly began to subside, and as it did, he became aware of what an idiot he had been to come running out here without thinking. It was _cold_! The bushes were blocking some of the wind, but that didn't change the fact that it was freezing outside. He could tell now that Sora's tremors were as much due to shivering as they were to crying, and he was beginning to shiver as well as the warmth from his run rapidly evaporated into the winter air. He would have to get them both back inside and fast.

"Sora," he said softly, "we need to get you up and back inside." When Sora shook his head against him, he tried, "Well then, how about I run back in and get our coats. I'll come straight back out to you." At this, Sora shook his head even more and abandoned Roxas's shirt to wrap both of his arms tightly around his twin's torso. Clearly, the distraught brunet would rather freeze than let either of them move from this spot. "Sora …" Roxas tried again, determined to do something before they both became popsicles.

To his surprise, at that moment something soft and warm fell on his head. When he looked up, it slid sideways and down, revealing itself to be his coat which he had left behind in the auditorium.

"You crazy kids," a familiar voice said gently. "Doing whatever you please, making me worry about you."

"Axel?" Roxas breathed as the red-head appeared on the other side of the bushes. Axel didn't reply, too busy examining the plants and figuring out a way to get through them. A moment later, he had found it and was squatting down on the other side of Sora, the brunet's coat draped over one arm. He laid his free hand on the boy's back and rubbed it comfortingly.

"Sora," he asked, "can you let go of Roxy for just a second? Just long enough to put your coat on?" When Sora shook his head, he placed the garment invitingly along his shoulders and coaxed, "C'mon, kid. I promise you can go right back to him. It'll just take a second, and you'll feel much better."

Slowly, Roxas felt the tight grip against his body begin to ease, and a moment later, Sora released him and sat back. While Axel helped his brother, murmuring encouragements the entire time, Roxas quickly shoved his arms into his own coat and zipped it up. He was still cold, but at least it wasn't nearly as bad.

"There you go," Axel said, zipping Sora's coat up to the chin. "You're all done. You can go back to Roxas now."

But Sora just sat there staring at him, the occasional tear still slipping from his eyes to run down his wet cheeks. "Axel?" he asked distractedly after a long minute.

"Yeah, kid?" he replied. Gently, he ran a gloved hand through Sora's hair, pulling it from his eyes and smoothing it into place. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Sora didn't reply. He just sat, looking at the older man in front of him. Then, out of nowhere, he threw himself at Axel, knocking the tall man off his feet, and, once Axel was sitting on the ground with his legs in front of him, climbed into the man's lap and curled up against him where he once again started to cry.

Stunned, Axel threw a half-frightened, half-apologetic look to Roxas. But Roxas, though initially surprised, didn't feel slighted or threatened. Sora wanted comfort, the kind that envelops you and protects you, and Axel with his taller frame was more able to give that to him. Roxas understood that, and so he smiled at Axel to say as much. Then, he scooted over to the pair of them and curled up against his brother with his hands around Sora's waist and his head resting between his shoulderblades.

When Axel's arms encircled both him and Sora protectively, Roxas felt a small, fluttering warmth erupt in his chest. He squashed it immediately. Just because Axel was being uncharacteristically warm and kind right now, and just because Hayner seemed to think Axel was a totally awesome guy and a blast to be with, and just because Roxas was starting to find himself thinking of the man more and more, none of that meant that Axel wasn't a complete jerk and a waste of Roxas's time. Besides, he had something more important to think about at the moment: Sora. So that soft tingling feeling he was currently experiencing could go take a hike; Roxas wasn't paying any attention.

"Sora," he murmured against his brother's back, "what happened? What's wrong?"

It took the other boy a few heartbeats to calm down enough to speak, but when he had, the single word he uttered confirmed all of Roxas's fears. "Riku …"

Roxas tightened his grip around his brother's waist and asked, "Did he break up with you?"

Sora's answering shake of the head surprised him and cut short his dark thoughts against the absent blond. "No," Sora choked out. "I … I broke up … with him."

"You … you did?" When the brunet head in front of him nodded, he asked, "Why?"

"Because … because he …" He couldn't get any farther and curled up into Axel to ride out a fresh wave of sobs.

As Sora cried against him, Axel lifted his hand and softly began to stroke the boy's head. "You were going out with Riku?" he asked, unable to completely hide the surprise in his voice. "I didn't realize that guy swung both ways."

Startled, Roxas sat up straight and met the green eyes that had swung over to him at the sudden movement. "Axel," he demanded, "what do you know about Riku?"

The red-head shrugged lightly. "Romantically? Not much. I know the guy's a player, but that's about it."

"Yeah, but that's just his reputation, right? It isn't -"

"It's true!" Sora half-wailed, cutting Roxas off mid-sentence. "All of it. It's all true!"

"Well, of course it's true," Axel said lightly, not meaning to be cruel but wounding both twins just the same. "Hayner wouldn't hate his guts so much if it wasn't."

Roxas crumpled, his head coming to rest on Sora's back once more. He couldn't believe it. It was true. Riku really was a slut, and rather than investigate that information for himself, Roxas had pushed it aside and chosen to believe in his instincts and in his desire to see his brother happy. He should have been looking out for Sora, protecting him, and instead he had pushed him even farther into emotional danger until it had turned out like this.

"Hey," Axel interrupted his thoughts, "why don't I take both of you home? I'll go back in, tell Larxene we're all leaving, get your stuff, and drive you to your house. Okay?" Gently, he pulled the boy in his lap away from his body just far enough to tip up his chin so that their eyes met. "Okay, Sora?" he asked. "You stay here with Roxas, and I'll be right back."

Sora didn't respond, but his body went limp enough for Axel to maneuver him around easily. A moment later, Roxas found himself entangled with his brother, holding a brunet head against his neck and watching that wild head of red hair disappear around the corner. He felt an odd sense of longing as Axel vanished from his sight, but it was muted by the more overpowering feelings of misery and guilt that had taken over his body. He simply couldn't shake the thought that somehow, in some way, he had caused all of this.

"I'm sorry, Sora," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Sora replied against his neck. "It's not your fault."

Roxas didn't agree, but he kept silent on the subject. Instead, he let his thoughts return to that time in the cafeteria when he had found out the truth and ignored it. He should have known that Hayner wouldn't be so angry over mere rumors. The fire in his friend's eyes had been enough to burn the world, and Roxas had dismissed it. He felt sick just thinking about it. Riku's reactions should have clued him in as well. The older boy had been so surprised when Roxas had waved off the accusations, and before then, he had been so scared. So terribly afraid.

Roxas's breath caught as he realized something he hadn't previously. Riku had seen this coming. The junior had known that, one day, Sora would find out about his past and, when that happened, the younger boy would leave him. He had been so terrified that day because he had thought their breakup was imminent. The existence of that fear and of the relief that Riku showed afterwards pointed strongly in a single direction. Regardless of what the junior had done before meeting his brother and with whom, Riku truly cared for Sora and wanted the two of them to stay together. It didn't excuse his deception, but knowing that, Roxas could almost forgive him.

Any additional thoughts he may have had on the matter were chased away by Axel's return. The man wasted no time in helping Sora up, and within moments, Roxas found himself sliding into the back seat of the red-head's car next to his brother. No one spoke except to ask and answer questions in regards to directions to the house. Sora, Roxas noted, spent the entire ride gazing out the window in a kind of cold, empty daze. While he wished with all his heart that he could do something to ease his twin's pain, Roxas knew that there was nothing. That knowledge stung him deeply; he hated feeling so useless.

"Here we are," Axel announced softly as they pulled into their driveway. He turned in his seat to look at them over his shoulder and asked, "Do you need help getting everything inside?"

Roxas shook his head. Sora had already opened his door and was halfway out. Not wanting to be too far behind him, Roxas quickly gathered his things, but before he exited the car, he sought out those brilliant green eyes and, once they had locked with his, hesitantly smiled.

"Thanks, Axel," he said.

The older man stared at him, no doubt surprised by the lack of hostility in his voice, but then he smiled as well. "No problem, Roxas," he replied.

Hearing his name on Axel's lips, without any mockery or false flirtation, made Roxas shiver. For the briefest of moments, he allowed himself to believe that their age difference didn't matter. That Axel wasn't a first-class asshole who hounded and irritated him nonstop. He even, just for a second, forgot about Sora. In this moment only, the only thing that mattered was that the man before him was seriously hot, had been kind to his brother, and had Roxas held fast with his hypnotizing green eyes.

He wanted the moment to last longer, but Sora was already at the front door, taking out his key. With a tiny sigh of regret, Roxas opened his door and slipped out into the cold. As he passed by the driver's seat on the way to the house, Axel rolled down his window and stuck his head partially out.

"Let me know if you need my services again!" the red-head grinned. "I'm always ready to drop everything and come running for my darling Roxy-baby!"

Before today, the comment would have irked Roxas, but now he just smiled. It was almost reassuring to have Axel return to his loud, annoying self. It made things feel more normal somehow.

"I'd rather cut out my own tongue than ask for your services, you damn pervert," he shot back, although his words held none of their usual malice, and when Axel pulled out of the driveway onto the road, he sent the man a short wave of farewell. As the car drove away, Roxas realized belatedly that Axel now knew where he lived. That fact didn't bother him as much as he would have expected it to.

Sora had left the door open for him, but Roxas found that his brother hadn't made it very far after that. When Roxas walked in and shut the door behind himself, Sora was still standing in the entryway, his bag on the floor at his side. A quick check revealed that the brunet was staring blankly at nothing. Gently, Roxas took him by the elbow and guided him into the family room. Sora obeyed his twin's silent commands without complaint, moving as he was directed like an empty, soulless doll.

"Move over, Destiny," Roxas told the dog who was lying on the couch and taking up the entire space. "Sora needs to sit."

Destiny lifted her head and thumped her tail at him, but didn't actually move until Roxas bent down and shoved her over. She looked at him with mildly hurt eyes, but he ignored it and turned to the task of taking off Sora's coat instead. Once he had accomplished that, he sat his brother down on the couch and walked back into the hallway to deal with both of their coats and their bags. By the time he returned, Destiny had laid her head on Sora's lap, and Sora had collapsed onto her body, burying his face in her fur.

Roxas decided to leave the both of them alone.

Perhaps thirty minutes passed, during which Roxas fixed a snack, tried in vain to get Sora to eat some, and worked half-heartedly on some of his homework. He didn't know what else to do. Sora wouldn't talk to him anymore, and Roxas didn't blame him. It didn't seem right, though, to just sit there at his side, useless, and do nothing. So he tried to continue on with some semblance of normality and just waited for Sora to need him or to recover on his own. At the very least, Cloud would be home soon, and Roxas had no doubt that their dad would know what to do and how to fix this terrible apathy that had taken over his brother.

He was contemplating calling Cloud's office and hurrying the process along when the doorbell rang. Surprised, Roxas rose from the kitchen table and went to check on it. As far as he knew, they weren't expecting anyone. It was probably someone trying to sell them something or some activist with a petition and an outstretched hand for donations. If that were the case, Roxas wouldn't even bother opening the door for them. He knew he should check, though, just in case it was Yuffie dropping by for a surprise visit. The woman was random enough that she did things like that, even on school nights.

Arriving at the door, Roxas lifted up on his toes and peeked through the small hole that would have been eye-level for someone a bit taller. To his shock, he found himself indeed looking at a familiar face, but it wasn't the one he was expecting. For a moment, he considered ignoring the bell and returning to the kitchen, but something in him spurred him forward. Slipping his very best frown on his face, Roxas grasped the knob, turned it, and threw open the door to face the person on the front step.

"Riku," he stated coldly.

The older blond took a step backwards, surprised by either the door opening or Roxas's presence or both. He took a moment to swallow before replying, "Roxas."

"What do you want?"

Riku hesitated, clearly worrying about what Roxas might do to him if provoked. "I want … I want to talk to Sora."

"Do you?"

"Yes." He looked briefly over his shoulder, and Roxas noticed for the first time that Riku's fancy black car was parked in the driveway. Someone was in the driver's seat - Kadaj by the looks of it - and it appeared that there was someone in the back seat as well although he couldn't tell in the early-evening darkness. Whatever support Riku was seeking from the car's occupants, he must have found it, for he turned back to Roxas with renewed strength and a bit of desperation. "Please, Roxas," he near-begged. "I need to talk to Sora. Just for a while. I have to tell him everything. Everything I should have told him before." He paused, breathing shallowly for a moment, before adding simply, "Please."

With one hand on the doorframe and the other on the door itself, ready to slam the thing in Riku's face, Roxas took a long minute to evaluate the older boy before him. Riku's face was pale and drawn, and his eyes looked slightly hollow. He looked surprisingly like Sora, actually, although perhaps Roxas shouldn't have been that surprised. His previous thoughts about the junior returned to him, and he began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Sora had made a mistake. At the very least, he wanted to know what the other boy had to say, even if Sora didn't.

"Wait here," he ordered and closed the door.

When he entered the family room, Sora was sitting up and staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. "I don't want to see him," he whispered hoarsely as Roxas approached. "I don't. I can't."

"You don't have to see him," Roxas told him gently, kneeling down in front of him and taking his shaking hands. "But you should listen to what he has to say. You don't have to say a thing in response. You don't even have to look at him. But come listen, Sora." He smiled. "For me, okay?"

His brother did not respond for a good minute, but then, slowly, he nodded. Encouraged, Roxas rose and helped Sora do the same. Together, they walked to the front door where Roxas placed his twin up against the wall next to the door where he would be hidden when the door opened. After giving Sora one final encouraging nod, Roxas turned the knob a second time and revealed Riku, still standing where he had been told to stay.

Green eyes lit up with hope when the door opened, but it died out again when they saw the wrong twin standing there. Thinking that he had been refused, Riku started to turn away, but Roxas stopped him.

"Talk," he said.

Riku blinked at him, at first confused, but then beginning to understand. "Is … is he … ?"

"Talk," Roxas repeated. "He'll listen." Crossing his arms, he leaned up against the doorframe and cast his eyes to the ground, letting Riku know that, while he wouldn't get in the way, he wasn't going anywhere either.

For a heartbeat or maybe two, Riku just stood there, gathering his resolve. Then, he inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly, and spoke.

"Sora, I'm sorry. I'm truly very sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I know that's hard to believe considering the things I did, but it's true. I didn't hide myself from you because I wanted to trick you. I did it because I'm ashamed of myself and because I was afraid that, if you ever found out who I truly am, you'd do exactly what you did. I know it's a bit late and it may not do anything other than hurt you more, but I wanted you to hear everything about me from me. I want you to finally hear the truth.

"I've spent pretty much my whole life feeling like I'm on display. My grandfather is famous in the scientific world, and my dad is fairly famous in his own right. When I was growing up, the other kids never treated me the same way they treated each other. I got into a lot of fights, all four of us did, and I didn't have any friends until I met Kairi when I was eight. You've never met my dad, but he's not the most affectionate of people, and my mom died when I was born, like I told you. I never really felt like I was worth anything to anyone. I always felt that no one wanted me, that there was nowhere I belonged.

"Then, when I was fourteen, a girl who thought I was good-looking asked me to have sex with her. I accepted, not because I was attracted to her, but because she so obviously wanted me and I had never been wanted by anyone before. After I had been with her, one of her friends asked, and then another. Before I knew it, I was so far over the line that, even if I had turned back to look for it, I wouldn't have been able to see it. But I never looked back. I didn't care about myself enough to bother. I started going to parties where, over the course of the night, I would sleep with three or four different girls. Kairi tried to stop me, but I didn't listen to her. I didn't believe her when she would say that my body was worth saving. As far as I was concerned, love and relationships were things that happened to other people, not me. All that I cared about was seeking out and getting that precious moment when I would feel wanted, cherished, again and again."

Roxas lifted his head and gazed at Sora. His brother refused to meet his eyes. That was something the two of them could understand. They had experienced it intimately. The desire to be wanted and the pain of loneliness. If Riku had found the answer to that desire during sex, then Roxas, even though he certainly didn't approve of it, could at least understand why the other boy had continued to do it. He tried to convey this to his brother with his eyes, but Sora had closed himself off and would not look at him.

Some time during Riku's speech, Destiny had shown up at the door to see what was going on, and in this short pause, she stuck her head outside and tried to sniff the newcomer. Roxas quickly grabbed her by the collar and pulled her back in, sticking one leg out in front of him to block her way. While Destiny proceeded to try to squeeze underneath it in spite of how impossible it would be considering her size, Roxas nodded at Riku to go ahead. The other blond smiled slightly and nodded back before taking another series of steadying breaths and continuing.

"In seemingly no time, I got myself a reputation as the school slut, willing to sleep with anyone who asked. It was pretty much true, although I turned down the handful of boys who propositioned me and I never slept with any of the teachers or anyone over the legal age. I honestly didn't care about what other people thought of me. I was too obsessed with that desirous look in those girls' eyes to care. That's why I started seducing girls, actually. It wasn't enough to be wanted by just the ones who were bold enough to approach me. I wanted everyone to want me; I wanted to feel that way everywhere I went. So I started flirting like mad, seducing girls I had absolutely no romantic interest in just to see them burn with desire for me. I …" He paused painfully and turned his head away. "I know it was horrible of me, but I couldn't help myself."

A moment passed in silence, and when Riku spoke again, he seemed stronger. "And then, in October," he announced, "I was at my cousin Leon's bookstore when a pair of twin brothers walked in, wanting to talk to Leon about him and their dad."

Roxas lifted his head in surprise to find Riku smiling at him. "Yeah," he answered the unspoken question. "I was there. I was in the back, fetching something. You two walked in and, as cliché as it sounds, everything in my life changed. There was just something about you, Sora. Something about the way you smiled. That one moment was all it took for me to want you. Not as a possession or as someone to spend a night with and then go our separate ways. I wanted you to just be there, in my life. I wanted to see you smile at me. Even if I had to share your smiles with someone else, that would have been okay as long as I got to have some of them for myself. It's funny, but, considering how disgustingly rich my family is, I've never really wanted anything in my life. I didn't want things; I bought them. It was that simple. But when I saw you last October, I realized for the first time what it is to truly want something and not have it. How much it can ache to watch it walk away.

"The pain of not having you, however, was nothing compared to the pain of knowing what I had done to myself with my own hands. I was filthy, utterly disgusting, and while I hadn't cared before, suddenly it mattered immensely and I didn't know what to do. I knew you wouldn't want to be friends with someone as low as me. Honestly, who would? But I also knew that I couldn't just give you up without trying. So … I hid myself from you, knowing that by doing so I was only prolonging the inevitable."

Suddenly deeply serious, Riku took a step forward and spoke directly to the door as if he could see the boy who hid behind it. "Sora," he said, "I want you to know that when I said you were my first relationship, it wasn't a complete lie. I had never had a relationship before you, boyfriend or girlfriend. It wasn't the complete truth, though, and for that, I'm sorry. If you have any trust in me left, please believe me when I say that I've been faithful to you this entire time. I haven't slept with anyone since I first saw you last October, long before you were anything other than a far-off dream. That party that Kairi thought I went to over winter break? It was our first date. I was too scared of what would happen to tell her the truth. My only sin against you is the sin of not telling you about my past for fear that it would drive you away from me.

"Sora, I know I don't have the right to ask this, but please, give me another chance. I promise that I'll be completely open and truthful to you this time. I won't hide anything, no matter how ugly I think it is. My body has been touched by countless others, but you're the only one, the _only_ one, who has ever touched my heart. Sora, I love you. So please … please -"

The door suddenly swung forward, forcing Roxas to lurch out of the way and pull Destiny with him as best he could. When he managed to recover, he looked up from where he had fallen on the ground to find Sora standing in front of him, both palms pressed against the closed door.

"… Sora? … Sora! …"

"Sora," Roxas breathed, echoing Riku's muffled cries from outside. His brother just shook his head and turned around to press his back against the door. Tears streamed down his face as Riku's fists pounded against the piece of wood that separated them. After half a minute, the noises from outside ceased. Sora didn't move; he simply stood there, crying quietly while Roxas watched him from the floor.

The slamming of a car door spurred Roxas into action. Scrambling up from the floor, he leapt over to one of the side windows in time to see Kadaj striding across their lawn towards his brother. Riku, as far as Roxas could see from his angle, was still standing at the door, his hands pressed against it and his head hanging down between his arms. When Kadaj reached him, the older boy gently hauled the younger away from the door and off the front step to the sidewalk. Roxas could easily see Riku's tears as they passed on their way to the car.

Turning his attention back to his brother, Roxas found that Sora had slid down the door and was now sitting on the floor, still crying. Destiny had plopped herself down next to him and was attempting to lick his face clean of tears. While Roxas desperately wanted to know what Sora had been thinking, why he had shut the door on Riku like that, he knew that now wasn't the time to pry. There was really only one thing he could do right now.

Crossing the hall to enter the kitchen, Roxas plucked the phone from the wall and dialed in the number. "Dad," he said when the man had picked up, "you need to come home now. Sora and I both need you."


	35. Cloud

_There is a tray on the table in front of him. There are dishes on the tray, and on the dishes there is food. However, he is not eating. His stomach will not let him. It is too busy alternately flipping and roiling, as if it can't decide whether it wants to sink into his feet or crawl up his throat to escape through his mouth. Either way, putting food into it doesn't seem like a good idea right now._

_Squall is sitting across from him, quietly eating his lunch, oblivious to the turmoil going on across the table. He wonders how the other man hasn't noticed his rampaging panic. The wall of disinterest that he threw up for defense feels like it is crumbling and about to fall at any moment. When it does, the whole world will see what a pathetic, disgusting failure he is._

_"So," Squall says, breaking the silence, "how was your weekend?"_

_His stomach lurches painfully, and his hands begin to feel hot and sticky. "Fine," he says from behind the wall, even though it's the absolute opposite of the truth. His weekend wasn't fine. That night wasn't fine. The next morning wasn't fine. He wasn't fine then, he's not fine now, and he won't ever be fine again._

_"That friend of yours, she okay?"_

_He wonders if it's possible to throw up not just what's inside one's stomach, but the stomach itself. It seems like his body wants to find out._

_"Yeah. I mean, no. She's still upset, but she'll be okay eventually."_

_"Hn," his boyfriend responds and sticks a french fry in his mouth, not knowing that he's been betrayed. Not knowing that this simple, quiet lunch is all a lie. That the world has cracked like the glass on a cheap snow globe and that the sweet perfection within is slowly being destroyed. That he is trying so hard to hold on to it and keep it safe but he can't because the sparkly liquid keeps sliding through his fingers, never to be replaced again._

_"You want to hang out after this?" Squall asks._

_His heart screams. He needs help. He can't do this alone. He needs divine intervention. He needs Tifa. He needs_ **_someone_** _. The wall is disintegrating faster than he can repair it, and he doesn't know what to_ **_do_** _._

_"Sure," he says._

_"Good." The gray eyes that have been watching him suddenly narrow a bit. "Are you feeling all right?" his gentle, perfect, betrayed boyfriend asks. "You look pale."_

_"Just stressed," he says, and it's such a terrible, terrible lie._

_"Oh, okay." Squall regards him for a moment, then points to his pasta salad with his own fork. "You going to eat that?"_

_He wants to laugh. He wants to scream. He wants to run away and hide. He wants to throw himself at Squall's feet and beg for forgiveness. He wants to die._

_"No," he says, pushing his entire tray forward. "Help yourself."_

_Squall smiles at him. His heart shatters._

_"Thanks."_

_"You're welcome."_

xXx

With a tired sigh, Cloud gently closed the door to Sora's bedroom and leaned his weight against it. Inside, his two boys were curled up with each other on the bed, both asleep. Sora had cried himself into unconsciousness a while ago, after which Roxas had told Cloud all the details of what had happened that afternoon. They had lapsed into silence after that, Roxas on the bed with his brother, Cloud sitting next to it with his hand on his son's head. Eventually, the blond twin had fallen asleep as well, at which point Cloud deemed it acceptable to leave the room and care for himself.

His heart felt heavy as he descended the stairs to the first floor and turned towards the kitchen. Wanting something to eat but nothing too fancy, he fished out a bag of tortilla chips and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. Destiny had followed him and was sitting by her food dish hopefully, thumping her tail, but he ignored her. He could tell from the detritus by the sink that Roxas had already fed her this evening. Satisfied with his own choices, he wandered into the family room, dog at his heels.

For about ten minutes after settling himself onto the couch, Cloud just ate chips and drank water. Destiny started out with her head in his lap but, after realizing that she wasn't going to get any of the chips, ended up curled at his feet, dozing. Not for the first time, Cloud felt comforted by her warm presence. It helped soothe the hard, aching knot that had lodged in his chest sometime in the middle of Roxas's explanation. He had easily kept its existence hidden from his son, but now that he was alone to think, the pain it caused nearly brought tears to his eyes.

A terrible need was rushing through him and trying to sweep him away. He was fighting it, but he was losing. His eyes kept straying to the phone sitting on a nearby table. He knew he shouldn't do it, that it would be asking far too much when he really didn't have the right to ask anything. And yet, in spite of knowing how wrong it was, his hand was suddenly on the receiver, and a moment later, it was in the air and his fingers were pushing the small squares, causing little electronic tones to sing out and disrupt the quiet of the room.

The other line rang twice before it was answered.

"Hello?"

"Leon," he said softly, "it's Cloud."

"Oh, hey Cloud. What's up?" He paused, and when he spoke again, Cloud could hear the smile in the other man's voice. "You making sure I don't forget our lunch date?"

An answering smile quickly spread over Cloud's face as well. That was right. They had scheduled their date for the next day. He had forgotten about it with everything else that had happened. Knowing that, it made his call even more unreasonable, but the need had yet to go away and he couldn't stop himself.

"No, that's not why I called. I … Leon, can you come over?"

"What? Right now?"

Cloud closed his eyes and resisted the urge to gnaw on his lower lip. "Yes, right now."

Leon was understandably surprised and confused. "You do know what time it is, right?" he asked.

"Yes, I know." He inhaled very slowly and deliberately, trying to keep the knot from unraveling just yet. "I know what time it is, and I know that I have absolutely no right to ask this of you, but I … I want to see you. … I …" _I need you_. But he couldn't say that, so he didn't.

Thankfully, Leon understood what went unsaid, even from the other end of a phone line. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

Cloud nearly fainted with relief. "Thank you," he managed to choke out before he had to end the call or risk Leon hearing his breakdown. Throwing the phone onto the couch next to him, he doubled over himself and just cried without restraint. The hard ache in his chest was dissolving at the thought of seeing Leon, and he was so happy and so relieved that he couldn't stop the emotions from overflowing. Even if he could, he wouldn't have tried to stop them. He wanted them out and gone by the time Leon got there so they wouldn't get in the way of what he had to do. Of what he had to say.

True to his word, ten minutes later Leon was standing in Cloud's front hallway, removing his coat and being sniffed from the knees down by a curious golden retriever.

"Destiny, knock it off," Cloud snapped when she tried to stick her head in Leon's coat pocket.

"So this is the lady who's taken over the Strife household," Leon grinned amiably. He held out a hand to Destiny who proceeded to lick it with vigor. "Nice to meet you, girl. I hear you've been having trouble taking your rightful place on the couch."

"Not just the couch," Cloud groaned as he hung Leon's coat in the hall closet. "My bed, too. The boys keep trying to get her to sleep with one of them, but she insists on being with me. And shutting the door on her doesn't work because then she whines and paws at it all night long."

"Wow, Cloud, you sound henpecked."

"Shut up, asshole."

While Cloud busied himself getting drinks for the two of them, Leon sat down at the dining room table and continued to make friends with Destiny who seemed intent on getting on his lap. As if by unspoken agreement, neither one mentioned Cloud's late-night summons until they were both seated with drinks before them and the dog safely tucked away beneath the table. The moment Cloud pulled his chair in, the mood in the room shifted as if a switch had been thrown. He looked over at Leon and saw in the other man's expression that the time for casual conversation was over.

"Thank you again for coming," he began before Leon could question him. "I need to talk to you about some things, and I wanted to do it face-to-face rather than over the phone."

Instantly, Leon's face shut down, and Cloud very nearly smiled. He knew exactly what the other man was thinking, but rather than reassure him that it wasn't that, he decided to just push on with what it was instead.

"Remember how I told you that Sora was dating Riku? You warned me about Riku's history and advised me not to allow it, but I went ahead and decided to give him a chance anyway. Do you remember that?"

The man across from him blinked several times in mind-halting confusion. Cloud sipped his drink and waited for Leon to recover.

"Yes?" Leon eventually replied, not entirely sure.

"They broke up this afternoon."

Finally, understanding crept into the brunet's expression, and he relaxed into his seat. "Is _that_ what's wrong?" he asked rhetorically, sounding a bit disgusted at how trivial the matter was. Cloud forgave the insult instantly, knowing as he did that there was more to it. Instead, he waited, watching as Leon picked up his own drink and continued to talk. "I knew that fake bastard hadn't really changed. Poor Sora, though. Is he upset?"

"Heartbroken," Cloud answered, his eyes never leaving Leon's face.

The other man shook his head in sympathy. "Poor kid. He'll get over it, though. He's way too good for that piece of shit cousin of mine." After taking a drink and setting down his glass again, he asked, "So what happened? Did Riku cheat on him?"

"No," Cloud answered with a small shake of his head. "Riku didn't do anything. As far as I can tell from what I've heard, he's been nothing but a model boyfriend from day one. No, Sora broke up with him."

Confusion re-entered that handsome face across from him although this time to a lesser degree. "He did?" Leon asked. "Why?"

Even though he knew the question was coming, Cloud couldn't help but frown a little. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted, twirling his glass slowly on the tabletop. "Sora himself hasn't said a word since I came home. I got what details I know from Roxas, and some of his information he told me were just educated guesses. What we know for sure, though, is that today Sora found out about that history of Riku's you warned me about and that before now, Riku had been hiding it from him if not outright lying about it. And Sora …" He paused and shook his head as the memories from the twins' earlier years flooded back. "Neither Sora nor Roxas have much tolerance for lies. They were lied to too many times when they were children, and they have yet to recover from that. It's no surprise that when Sora found out Riku had been lying to him, he broke up with him immediately, even though by doing so, he broke his own heart."

Leon's eyes were on him, and the man's fingers were softly drumming on the table next to his glass. "Cloud," he said after a moment of silence, "why did you ask me here? This is going to be difficult for Sora, and it will definitely affect your family as a whole, but so far I see no reason why you couldn't have told me all this over the phone or tomorrow at lunch. What are you holding back?"

A small smile crept tiredly onto his face. "Am I that easy to read?" he asked.

"No," the other answered, "but I'm getting better with practice."

That made Cloud laugh a little, but it soon faded away. He dropped his eyes to his drink and began to fiddle with the coaster nervously. "I realized something as Roxas was telling me all this," he began. "I was sitting there, listening to my son tell me why my other son is acting like his life is over, and I realized that I …" Carefully, he lifted his eyes to meet Leon's gray ones. "… I sympathize with Riku."

The other man's eyes were not cold, but neither were they warm. If anything, they were guarded. "You do?" he asked evenly.

"I do," Cloud confirmed. "I know what it feels like to hold a terrible truth inside you, one that you don't want the one you love to know because you know that if they find out, they'll reject you. I know what that kind of fear is like. How it feels to know that you're utterly doomed, that there is nothing you can do to stop it, but that maybe you can delay it for just a bit if you keep it hidden inside. And Riku -" Here he paused, choking slightly on the thickness that had invaded his throat. "Riku never actually cheated on Sora."

The brunet head before him bowed as the stormy eyes lowered to the table in understanding. "I thought," Leon said quietly, "that you most certainly did not cheat on me."

"I didn't," Cloud replied with a little self-deprecating laugh, "but I did lose my virginity to someone who wasn't my boyfriend. And then there was that month and a half, almost two months, of pretending everything was all right when it most definitely wasn't."

Leon laughed once, a sad, almost-resigned noise. "You have no idea how much that period of time haunted me after you left. For years, I kept thinking about what a fool I had been, about how you were just pretending to be mine. I felt so used. Like every moment we shared was fake because you were really laughing at me inside."

Cloud bit his lip and hung his head, no longer able to look at the man across from him. "I … I never …" he tried to whisper.

"I know that now," Leon interrupted, his tone kinder than it had been a moment ago. "But back then I had no idea what you were thinking. You hid it too well. And when I did notice that something was wrong, you always brushed it off as stress, remember?"

"Yeah. I remember." Cloud shut his eyes. He most certainly did remember. The initial panic had worn off after a few days of being around Squall, but he had never lost the guilt and that terrible feeling of being stained. He had always been afraid that Squall would discover the filth that lingered on him, that he would feel it when they touched and taste it when they kissed.

"I'm sorry, Squall," he whispered, purposely using the discarded name. "For being weak. For being scared. For hiding and for lying. For everything that I did to you in the name of protecting myself. I'm so very, very sorry."

For a long moment, Leon did not respond, and when he did, it was not in the way Cloud expected. Instead of the angry resentment of refusal or the warm love of forgiveness, Leon's tone held a soft neutrality as it spoke his name. "Cloud?"

"Yeah?" Still unsure as to what to expect, Cloud opened his eyes but did not lift them.

Leon's gentle voice washed over him soothingly, easing his nerves. "I never told you this, but the night you left me, I had decided that that was the night I was going to finally make love to you."

Surprised, Cloud lifted his head and finally met those haunting eyes with his own. The little tender smile on Leon's face sent a thrill racing through his body. "Really?"

"Yeah. I had it all planned out. Candles, wine, the whole nine yards. I wanted it to be a night to remember."

He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help but smirk. "Seriously?" he asked. "Candles? Were the silk sheets covered in rose petals, too?"

It had been a joke, but the way Leon's face fell told him he had hit a little too close to the mark. "They weren't silk," the brunet mumbled, turning his face away a bit in embarrassment.

"Oh my God, are you _shitting_ me? You had _rose petals_ on the _bed_?"

"I said I wanted to make it a night to remember."

"Oh my God."

"Shut up."

"You realize I would have laughed my ass off at your expense?"

"Well then, I guess it's good that you fucked someone else and dumped me, huh?"

Cloud froze, the laughter dying on his lips. Across from him, Leon's eyes widened as his brain caught up to his mouth. His cheeks flushed and his gaze dropped. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"No," Cloud quickly told him. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed at your good intentions. And really -" He smiled sadly, the melancholy mood taking over once more. "- it's good that you and I didn't have sex that night. I'm pretty sure I would have forced myself to go along with it, and I would have felt so awful the entire time. All of your efforts would have been for nothing."

Leon said nothing in response and turned his head away. A dark silence quickly settled over the two of them. Cloud could feel it pressing down on him, trying to get him to shrink into his chair. He fought it on principle more than for any real reason. He honestly didn't expect to be forgiven tonight. A small optimistic part of himself wanted to believe that he could be, but his larger realistic side acknowledged that it was very unlikely. He had called Leon over so that he could repent his sins in the presence of the one he had sinned against, not for any other reason.

Not knowing how to break the silence or even if he should, Cloud leaned back in his chair, fixed his gaze upon the ceiling, and thought of Sora. The next few days were going to be so difficult for his sweet and cheerful son. He had already decided to allow both of the twins to stay home from school tomorrow if they wished, but one day was all he was willing to give them. Sora would have to find the strength - as Cloud had, as Leon had - to move forward and continue on with a life that did not stop for any reason. More than anything, Cloud wanted to be able to give Sora that strength or to take the burden upon his own shoulders and carry it instead of his son, but he knew that he couldn't. The most he could do was be there for Sora if the boy needed him, and it hurt to know that he couldn't do anything more.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor brought Cloud's attention back to the present with a jolt. He snapped his gaze back down to find that Leon had risen and was walking towards the end of the table. For one heart-stopping moment, Cloud was afraid that the other man was leaving, but Leon turned the corner and continued on until he had stepped directly up to the seated blond, gazing down at him with a slight smirk.

"What - ?" Cloud started, but Leon's hand against his cheek cut him off. Stunned, he watched with wide eyes as the brunet leaned down and brought their faces within inches of each other.

Amusement danced in Leon's eyes as he said, "I promised myself last week that the next time I saw you, I was going to kiss you thoroughly. I think I'm ready to fulfill that promise now."

Before Cloud could say anything in agreement, refusal, or question, soft lips were pressing firmly against his own. He submitted almost instantly, eyes sliding shut and jaw going slack so that Leon could deepen the kiss without resistance. He had absolutely no idea what had gone through the other's mind to take him from the silent, brooding creature he had been to this, but truthfully he didn't care. Leon was kissing him, Leon was kissing him with tenderness and passion, and nothing else mattered at the moment.

The hand on his cheek slid around to the back of his neck, another hand slid around his waist to grip the opposing hip, and suddenly Cloud was on his feet. He linked his hands behind Leon's head, bracing his elbows and forearms against the man's chest for support, and a moment later was extremely glad he had as Leon spun them both around halfway. A couple of kicks with his foot to move the chair farther away from the table, and the brunet sat down where Cloud had been a moment ago, bringing the blond down into his lap, still kissing him.

Cloud's mind was swimming, misting over with a soft warmth that, thankfully, wasn't too arousing. The position they were in certainly was suggestive, but Leon's kiss stayed tender and respectful. There was no desperation in the slow way that tongue was stroking and curling against his, and when those lips caught one of his and sucked on it, it was to taste and savor, not to devour. Lazily, Cloud unlinked his hands and ran one through Leon's hair, appreciating the feel of the strands as they slid against the soft webbing between his fingers. An answering hand was soon massaging his own scalp and the other gently explored the expanse of his back, leaving little trails of shivering pleasure behind. Eventually, the kiss slowed, and when it finally stopped, Cloud rested his forehead against Leon's and sighed, feeling without a doubt thoroughly kissed.

Through half-lidded eyes, he gazed into those equally half-hidden storms and whispered, "I love you."

"I believe you," Leon replied.

"Really?" Cloud asked, hope springing up within his chest. "You do?"

Gray eyes lowered for a moment, but they soon lifted again. One of his hands reached back over his shoulder to link with one of Cloud's. "This believes you," Leon stated, bringing Cloud's hand up and pressing the knuckles against his head. "This, however …" He lowered their hands, pressed Cloud's against his heart, and covered it with his own. "… needs a bit more time."

Cloud smiled and, internally, pushed the hope back down into its usual resting place. "I understand," he replied. "However much time it needs, I'll wait."

"So you said," Leon smiled back, tilting his chin up again.

Cloud closed his eyes, expecting another kiss, but before Leon's lips met his, something cold and wet pressed itself against a rather personal spot of his inner thigh. He jumped, biting back a screech, and snapped his head down to be met by a pair of brown eyes gazing up at him from a happy, furry face.

"Destiny!" he hissed. "What the hell?"

Destiny just wagged her tail and nuzzled him again.

"Jesus," he complained, pushing her face away from his leg. "Don't do that!"

"I think she's jealous," Leon snickered as he rested his head against Cloud's shoulder.

"I don't give a shit," Cloud grumbled. Pointing harshly to the other room, he barked, "Get off! Go lie down!" When the brown eyes turned soft and guilt-inducing, he just frowned more. "Don't look at me like that. I said go lie down!"

Leon was outright laughing now. "What a possessive mistress you have, Cloud," he teased.

"Shut up. Shoo! Scat! Just go away already!" The dog nudged him in the leg for a third time, and he hissed violently. "Look," he snarled, "I don't care what you think. You belong to the boys, not me. You are _not_ my dog, and I am _not_ your human, so leave me the hell alone!"

"Yeah, sorry about that, girl," Leon laughed, scratching Destiny's ears with one hand. The other slid around Cloud's waist and pulled him slightly closer. "You're too late. I've already claimed him. He's mine."

Shock straightened out Cloud's spine like an iron pole and froze every one of his muscles. He stared, open-mouthed, at Leon who also had gone rigid, realizing in a matter of seconds just what he had said. Wide gray eyes turned to meet his blue ones. As he looked deeply into them, Cloud could see surprise and fear and worry, but what he didn't see was regret. Leon obviously hadn't meant to say that, but it wasn't a lie. If anything, it was a truth of which Leon himself hadn't completely been aware.

Slowly, Cloud's tension melted, and a smile slipped onto his face. He lowered his head to rest against Leon's and stretched out his hand to cover the one still partly behind Destiny's ears. Before long, the other man relaxed as well, and the two of them simply sat there, faces close but not touching and hands gently petting and scratching an extremely contented dog whose tail drummed against the floor without stopping.

Later, after Leon had left and Cloud had retired to his room, Destiny clambered onto Cloud's bed and curled up directly in the center of it. Rather than chase her out like he did every other night, Cloud merely slid under the covers, finding what space he could for himself, and turned out the light.

xXx

The next day at work, Cloud found himself in the office's small conference room, being amused, disgusted, horrified, and generally just entertained by Cid's and Xigbar's various and sundry stories about previous jobs and clients. It really was unbelievable just how stupid people could be, in spite of how much book-learning and on-the-job experience they had.

"So I get this call," Cid was saying, "and it's the damn heating and cooling guy. He tells me that he went and put the vents in the building but that one of my beams was in the way of where he wanted to put the main vent. Then he tells me that he took care of it but that I should probably come back and make sure it didn't screw up anything. So I go ahead over, thinking that he put it too close or something and I'll just have to do some quick calcs to make sure everything is still okay." He paused, changing the lollipop in his mouth to the other cheek, and fixed his eyes on Cloud's attentive face. "Do you know what that fucking moron actually did?"

Cloud shook his head because that's what a polite listener does when asked a question like that.

"He cut the beam out! Completely cut it out of the wall. Just sliced it where he wanted his vent to go and left the extra parts hanging around. I know!" he responded to the look of horror on Cloud's face. "He's lucky the whole damn ceiling didn't fall down on him."

Xigbar snorted, implying with that one sound that the engineering world would have been much better off if it had.

"So," Cid continued, leaning back in his chair, "I looked at it for a bit, and then I told my team to open up that damn vent and put the beam back in. We cut a hole in each side, stuck the beam through, welded it to the parts that were still there, and then closed the vent back up again." He grinned at Cloud who was trying not to snicker too much. "Then, I called the guy back up and told him I had fixed the problem but, oh, the air-conditioning was making this weird sound now so he might want to look into that."

"And that," Xigbar said while Cloud laughed, "is why I love working for Cid so much." He winked with his good eye. "Even if he is a cheap bastard."

"Hmph. You know, there ain't no rule that says I have to give you a raise every year."

"Yeah, I know. There also isn't one that says I have to keep working here if I don't want."

"Go ahead, although I doubt anyone else in the industry will hire you. I've seen what you do to my drafters."

"Eh, they're big kids. They can handle it."

A knock on the doorframe interrupted their mock argument, and all three men turned to find Watts standing in the opening. The secretary had an apologetic expression on his face and a small vase of flowers in his hand.

"Excuse me, sirs," he said respectfully, "but this just came for Mr. Strife." He held out the flowers in Cloud's direction.

"For me?" the blond asked, rising to his feet. When Watts nodded, he walked around the table to the smaller man and took the offered gift. "Whatever for?"

"I don't know, sir," Watts replied quickly. "The deliveryman didn't know anything. They usually don't since they're just doing the delivery. But there's a card, sir." He pointed to the small envelope stuck into the vase by a plastic fork.

"You got a secret admirer, Cloud?" Xigbar joked, and Cid barked out a laugh.

A sliver of dread curled around Cloud's stomach as he lifted his head and scanned the room for Jessie. He found her standing at Biggs's table, the two of them previously going over some drawings together although now both were gazing in their direction, curious. The girl smiled at Cloud when she met his eye, but the confusion in her face indicated that the gift had not been from her. Thoroughly at sea, he handed the vase back to Watts, took the envelope out of the plastic holder, and fished out the card.

A moment later, he laughed.

"So?" Cid prodded. "Who's it from?"

"My lunch date," Cloud answered, smiling back at him. He placed the card in his front shirt pocket and took the flowers back.

"You have a date today?" Xigbar asked, grinning.

"Yeah," he confirmed, not bothering to keep his voice down. "It's been long enough. I'm ready to get back in the scene."

"Your boys okay with that?"

"Yeah. Both Sora and Roxas approve of us. They're really excited actually." He flicked his gaze over to Jessie without giving away that he was looking at her. Her face had brightened upon hearing that Cloud was available again, but it had quickly faded into disappointment to learn that he already had someone he was serious about. Internally, Cloud breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to hurt her, but he really was sick of having her hanging around him all the time.

"Congratulations, sir!" Watts chirped, but then his face fell a little and he looked at the flowers in confusion. "But, uh, why is she sending you flowers?"

"Yeah," Cid added with a raised eyebrow of interest. "Isn't it usually the guy who sends the romantic shit to the girl?"

Cloud took a moment to examine his flowers. It was just a small and simple arrangement, some blues and oranges and a bit of red. The type of bouquet that was meant to say hello and brighten up a room rather than one that was supposed to represent burning passion and never-ending love. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of the sender picking it out for him. He certainly didn't mind being on the receiving end of a such a gift. He was the "pretty one" after all.

Turning back to Cid and the man's unanswered question, he shrugged as if to say that he didn't really know either. "Guess we're just not a normal couple," he said. "I'm going to take these to my office."

"Yeah, all right."

He walked through the main room, passing by Jessie who had gone back to talking with Biggs although with a lingering expression of disappointment on her face. If she had looked at him, he would have offered her a heartfelt smile, but she kept her eyes on her work and ignored him when he passed by. Knowing that she would get over it, Cloud continued on to his office and, once inside, set the vase gently down on the corner of his desk. He looked at it for a heartbeat, then removed the card from his pocket and read it again. It was only a single sentence, no greeting, no signature, written by hand in Leon's neat script.

_Because your dog isn't the only one who needs to know that you're mine._

Smiling peacefully, Cloud placed the card down next to the vase, exited his office, and shut the door.


	36. Zexion and Demyx

_Dear Echo,_

_I'm feeling much better now, thanks for asking. Colds are always such a pain and so gross, but thankfully this one is over now. You'd never know to look at him, but Leon is such a mother hen when I get sick. He's all, "Drink more fluids! Take your medicine! Get some rest!" It's scary, I tell you. I pity his kids if he ever has any._

_I know that you don't particularly care to hear it, but I thought I should tell you that Operation Become Friends with George is going well. He was avoiding me there for a while, but I tracked him down and launched a sneak attack! Total mission success. He was actually smiling by the end of it AND I got him to promise me that he won't avoid me anymore. Ha! Shy people are no match for the almighty Demyx! Which you should know considering I somehow managed to convince you to talk to me like this rather than keep hiding away in the shadows. And, yeah, that brings me to my next thing._

_Echo, are you still following me?_

xXx

His tea was slowly going cold, but Zexion was too lost in thought to notice or care. At the moment, all of his considerable amount of mental power was occupied with the question of what to do about his feelings for a certain blond musician. His initial plan - ignore them - had not worked the way he had expected. He had posited that the best way to ignore them would be to ignore the source, but he had neglected to factor in the stubbornness of the object of his affections. Demyx was Demyx would always _be_ Demyx, and thus that experiment had failed in a rather embarrassing fashion.

Regardless, the option to simply ignore the unwanted emotions remained with him. It would be made more difficult by keeping in contact with the source, as the forced lunch had proved, but it was still a possibility. As unscientific as it was, Zexion hoped that the passage of time would lessen the effects of his feelings. Either that or he would discover a way to combat them and function normally in spite of them.

Releasing his tight grip on his mug, Zexion instead splayed his hand across his chest, covering that spot in the center that hurt the most. He had yet to figure out why his chest ached so much. It was a near-constant feeling, lingering on despite the medications he took to rid himself of it. It didn't make sense. He had felt similar pains in his arms and legs when he had contracted a fever, and those had always lessened or been eliminated by the usage of drugs. This ache simply would not go away, and if he were foolish enough to picture Demyx's face in his mind, it would flare sharply, enough to steal his breath for a moment. He had, of course, resolved not to think of the other man at all, but his normally obedient mind refused to follow his orders. Often, he found his thoughts drifting, even in the middle of class, and they would only stop when the sudden pain in his chest made him gasp and returned his focus to him. The whole thing was extremely irritating.

Zexion sighed and took a sip of his cold tea. What had he done to deserve all of this? He had been extremely content, living his life as he wanted, steadily taking each step toward achieving his goals. What had he done to deserve a chance glance across a crowded park that destroyed everything that he had built for himself? Back when Demyx had been his angel and then his muse, he would have given anything simply to _know_ , to understand why his obsession had gripped him so firmly. How ironic that, now that he did understand, he wanted nothing more than to be ignorant again. Love was a pastime for ordinary people, people who didn't have the mental capacity to realize that the world was made of numbers. Love was something he neither needed nor wanted.

At least Demyx was still ignorant of Zexion's feelings. That was a problem with which he did not want to have to contend. From the little he knew of social interaction, Zexion had come to believe that a normal person, when faced with an unwanted confession of love, would limit his dealings with that person due to a sense of awkwardness. Demyx, however, had proved time and time again that he did not react to anything normally. If anything, Demyx would probably try to _increase_ the amount of time they spent together, either as a way to reinforce the friendship aspect of their relationship or as some sort of twisted favor to Zexion. Regardless, Zexion was very glad that Demyx still knew nothing of his unrequited affections.

Although, how could he be sure that they truly were unrequited?

Shocked, Zexion sat up in his chair and looked around as if the thought had come from somewhere other than inside his own mind. Heat began to rise in his cheeks, both from the illogical reaction and from the thought itself. Of course Demyx didn't reciprocate his ridiculous feelings. Demyx barely knew him. He was merely a patron of the place where the blond worked, the assistant to "Doctor Frosty". Their interactions were purely on a professional level. Even if Demyx had invited him out for New Year's and had lit up like a sun when he actually came, and even if he had tracked Zexion down to talk to him, going so far as to come to his school, attack him after class, and take his bag hostage, it didn't mean that … it didn't mean that …

Did it?

Face flaring, Zexion set his tea on the table beside him and pushed it away. Clearly, the tea was increasing his body temperature in spite of the fact that it was itself no longer warm.

Well then, suppose, purely for the purpose of argument and completely hypothetically, suppose that Demyx did return his feelings. The next step in the socially accepted method of romantic interaction would be for them to begin dating. Zexion folded his arms over his chest and nodded his head. Yes, dating he could do. Simple meals in quiet restaurants and perhaps a concert or two. Hanging out together in the library or even, if Demyx insisted, that damned sun-drenched park where he had first laid eyes on the other. Zexion could handle that. And while he didn't particularly see the point, he could handle holding Demyx's hand in private and even, maybe, sharing body warmth on unseasonably cold nights.

If they succeeded at dating, however, Demyx would certainly insist on progressing further with their physical contact, and that was where Zexion's mind hit a serious roadblock. He didn't want to think of such things. He _really_ didn't want to think of such things. It was bad enough that he had had to admit his love for the musician to himself. If he allowed himself to think of physical things like kissing Demyx, then his mind would never … it would never …

Zexion's eyes slid shut, and he gently bit his lip. Kissing Demyx. What would it feel like? The blond was so bright and so warm. Would kissing him feel like merging with a sunbeam? Would it be as sweet as his smile? As deep and soulful as his eyes? And then, to touch him, to run his fingers across that soft-looking skin. The sexual areas didn't interest him as much as the curves and planes that made up the majority of the human body. Those short, soft lines of the neck that fell into the shallow valleys of the collarbone, and then, in comparison, the wide expanse of back, so firm and flat except for the small bumps of shoulder-blades near the edges. How different would Demyx's body be from his own? Would the blond's innate warmth and light make his fingers tingle? Would he watch Zexion as he touched him? Would he smile? Would he allow the exploration indefinitely, or would he interrupt it by leaning in to claim Zexion's lips in a kiss that would wipe his overactive mind completely clean?

In a sudden burst of anger and surprising self-restraint, Zexion snapped open his eyes and clenched his hands into fists. He was _not_ going to think about such things. In addition, he was not going to drink tea anymore. Clearly, it disagreed with his system and made him unbearably overheated.

Rising to his feet with mug in hand, Zexion strode into his kitchen, poured the cold tea down the drain, and then retired to his room to bury himself in the thickest, most boring organic chemistry textbook he could find.

xXx

_Whenever you send me a picture, it's always an older one, so that made me wonder whether you're still hanging around me with your camera like you did before we started talking. It doesn't really make much difference to me one way or the other. If you are, I don't mind, and if you aren't, that's fine, too. But whether you are or you aren't, I have a request to make. This Friday, after I get off of work at 8:00, please follow me. I'll come out the front door so you don't need to worry about watching the back door. I promise that I won't turn around or try to sneak a peek at you, so please follow me. It's very important to me that you do. I swear this isn't some kind of trick, and really I'll be putting myself at as much if not more risk doing this than you will, but it's just that important to me. So please._

_Until Friday,_

_Demyx_

xXx

They were going to The Royal Flush. That had been Zexion's initial assumption anyway, but once Demyx turned down the proper street, it became a certainty. In spite of having foreseen it, the decision confused him a bit. Why ask Echo to start following him at Lionhearted Books instead of simply requesting he come to The Royal Flush straight off? It would have been more efficient and definitely warmer. However, Zexion reminded himself, this was Demyx he was dealing with, and the musician never did anything according to the scientist's expectations. Shrugging to himself at this baffling truth of life, Zexion pulled his scarf more tightly around his neck and continued walking.

The blond had been as good as his word. As usual, Zexion had kept his distance and hidden himself within shadows and behind telephone poles and parked cars, but Demyx hadn't turned to look behind him even once during the long walk. He hadn't hesitated or slowed down either. He simply walked, hands buried in his pockets and shoulders hunched against the cold. His posture was a little stiffer than usual, but Zexion attributed it to the knowledge that someone was following him. The temptation to look behind him must have been overwhelming, and Zexion was extremely impressed by how well Demyx was fighting it.

When they finally arrived at the club's entrance, the leader surprised the follower by walking right on by it. Instead, he turned the corner and disappeared down the alley towards the back entrance. Finally, Zexion understood why they had bothered to take this long walk in the harsh winter cold. Whatever Demyx had planned, it didn't involve the club proper. In fact, Zexion reasoned as he slipped into the darkness of the alley himself, Demyx probably just wanted somewhere quiet and private. Several of his hypotheses, most involving new songs or other reasons for a performance, were instantly discarded, leaving him with very little idea of what the other man intended. His nervousness increased dramatically at this as did his desire to forget the whole ordeal and go home; not knowing what Demyx was doing was always a dangerous thing.

Several paces ahead of him, the object of his thoughts and anxieties stopped in front of the back entrance door and pulled it open. Eyes set firmly in front of him, he stepped through, not bothering to close the door. Zexion just blinked at it for a moment. Now would be the perfect time for a strategic retreat. However, if he did so, he would have to deal with the subsequent guilt over abandoning Demyx without at least giving him a chance. While self-preservation was always an adequate excuse for an escape, the other man had given him no reason to believe that his anonymity was in danger. Demyx had even gone out of his way, through both words and actions, to assure his secret penpal that he would be safe. If Zexion refused to trust him after all of this, he knew he would feel quite disgusted with himself come tomorrow. Plus, he was curious, dammit. Just what the hell was Demyx doing?

Biting back an unhappy grumble, Zexion approached the open door and passed through. Demyx was quite a ways away by now, but he had stopped next to one of the handful of empty rooms that sat backstage. As Zexion carefully closed the back entrance door, doing so without any unnecessary noise or movement, he watched the far-off blond carry on a quick conversation with some unseen person within the room. The distance and the muted sounds of music and conversation from the main area of the club drowned out what they were saying, but the scientist saw the musician smile awkwardly before leaning forward, grasping the handle of the room's door, and shutting it. Then, he moved on to the room directly next to it and slipped inside, again leaving the door open. Now extremely confused, Zexion followed with slow, careful steps, approaching obliquely so that he could peek inside while still mostly hidden in the dark hallway.

The room into which Demyx had disappeared was dark save for a single lamp in the corner, its small halo of light barely extending more than four feet. Large, bulky outlines on all sides indicated that the room was used for extra storage. Tables and chairs were stacked against one visible wall, and boxes with unknown contents created towers next to the other two. The center of the room, however, was clear, and that was where Demyx stood, his back to the door and his head bowed.

"Fifty-six … fifty-seven …" Zexion heard him half-whisper as he slid inside the room and found himself a dark corner between some boxes and what appeared to be amplification equipment. Apparently, Demyx was giving him time to arrive and get comfortable. "Fifty-eight … fifty-nine … sixty." With the completion of a minute, the blond head lifted and shoulders straightened with resolve. "Echo?" Demyx asked brightly. "Are you here?"

Hidden in his corner, Zexion lifted an eyebrow. Surely, Demyx didn't expect him to answer.

As if reading his mind, the musician laughed a little to himself and continued, "Well, it was worth a try, right?" He shook his head and shifted a little on his feet, still speaking to the back wall and pointedly not turning around. "I'm going to go ahead and assume that you are here. If you're not, I'm going to feel like a dork for talking to myself like this, but the only one who'll know about it is me, so that's not too bad. I already know what I dork I am. And if you are here … well … let's just say I really hope you're here and leave it at that."

Slowly, one of Demyx's hands pulled free of his pocket, and with it came something long and fairly thin. What it was Zexion could not determine due to the darkness of the room, and soon it was gone, brought in front of Demyx's body where he could no longer see it. "Echo," he was saying, fiddling with the long, thin thing in front of him, "I asked you to come here tonight because I have something I want to say to you and I didn't want to just write it in a letter. I wanted to tell you in person. It took me a while to figure out how I was going to do this since you don't want me to know who you are, but I finally came up with something that I think will work." He sighed heavily and squared his shoulders. "So, here goes."

Both of Demyx's hands rose to eye-level and then curved around his head to tie the ends of what he held into a double knot. Finally, Zexion recognized it for the strip of cloth that it was, although he still had no idea what Demyx was doing with it. His mind dredged up an old memory of some action movie he had once been forced to watch and how the hero had tied a headband on before going to battle, but he doubted that Demyx was invoking that particular imagery. Before he could formulate a different hypothesis, however, the blond before him finally turned 180 degrees, revealing his mildly anxious face and his tightly bound eyes.

Demyx had blindfolded himself.

"Now, I know this is really stupid of me," he announced, his voice slightly higher in volume as an automatic reaction to not being able to see, "but you should know I'm not doing this without precautions. Axel is right next door." A slightly shaking hand raised to point to the wall. "Plus, there's a monitor in here, and Luxord has the receiver piece in his ear. We tested it out the other day. He has it turned down enough that he can't tell what I'm saying, but all I have to do is raise my voice and he'll come running. I have faith that you're not a crazy rapist who'll attack me - especially since if you were, you would have done it by now - but just in case you are, you should know that I have back-up. So, yeah. It's stupid, but not completely stupid. Or something."

Slowly, Demyx took a few breaths and then lowered himself to kneel on the floor. "I'm kind of a klutz at the best of times," he explained, "so I figure I should probably be close to the ground when I do this so I don't fall over. You know, just in case." He sent the space in front of him a little half-hearted grin before sucking in a few extra breaths. "Okay," he stated a moment later, "I'm ready now." Lifting his head so that he seemed to gaze directly before him, he said, "Echo, if you're here, please come sit in front of me. Like I said, I want to talk to you, and I want to do it in person. So please …" His right arm lifted from his lap and slowly extended the hand forward. "Please come sit and take my hand. I … I want to know that you exist. I mean," he explained hastily, "I know that you exist because you write me things, but right now, all you are to me is words on a piece of paper. I want to feel you. Touch you. Just your hand is enough. I just want to prove to myself that you really are real."

Stunned, Zexion stood in his corner and just stared. Apparently, Demyx's ability to surprise, blindside, and downright flabbergast him was limitless. He couldn't even begin to fathom the logical steps that a person's mind would have to make to reach a conclusion such as this. He had known that Demyx was optimistic, stubborn, and undeniably creative, but he had never realized that the other man could plan out and execute a strategy just as well as Zexion could and that he possessed a bravery that far surpassed his own. Demyx's actual request, the fact that he was supposed to be doing something right now, had yet to register in Zexion's shocked mind.

His mental powers finally came back online when the outstretched hand lowered and Demyx sighed. The blond head bowed in disappointment, causing Zexion to take several steps forward in an automatic reaction. Part of him wanted to kneel down and take that hand, but a much larger part of him was terrified beyond belief of what would come next. Touching Demyx right now would close the distance between them, and even with his anonymity preserved, Zexion wasn't sure he wanted that to happen. Echo was his shield. If he lowered it, even just a little, wouldn't that mean he would be making himself vulnerable? His feelings for the man before him were complicated and confusing enough.

"Guess I'm a dork after all," Demyx said to himself, ignorant of the figure painfully hesitating only a few steps away. "Figures." He raised his hand and moved it towards the blindfold.

Something within Zexion snapped. Without even fully realizing he was doing it, he lunged forward, dropped heavily to his knees, and snatched the reaching hand away just as the fingers had grazed the cloth. Demyx jumped and half-shouted a yelp in surprise, but in the next second, his expression had turned to one of wonder and joy.

"Echo?" he whispered hopefully. "Is that you?"

Zexion swallowed thickly, too frightened and shocked by his own actions to move. Thankfully, Demyx didn't seem to want an answer. His other hand gripped Zexion's as well, and both of them squeezed tightly.

"It is you, isn't it?" he asked, his smile bursting across his face. A hand began to pat its way up Zexion's arm, across his shoulder to his chest, and then up towards his face. Instantly nervous, Zexion grabbed it before it could make contact with anything. "Ah, sorry," Demyx apologized immediately. He lowered his hand, keeping hold of Zexion's as he did so. "I guess I could find out too much if I did that, huh? Like if you wear glasses or not and how long your hair is. Yeah, okay. The face is off-limits. But wow …" He grinned widely, bound eyes staring up at where he thought the other's face was. "You really came. You're really here. I … I'm just …" He lifted both hands and pressed Zexion's palms against his grinning cheeks. "This is just awesome! I can't believe you're here. … Can I take your gloves off?"

At the question, Zexion's fingers instinctively twitched, but he forced himself to calm down enough to actually think about the question. Coming to the conclusion that it would do no harm, he forced their hands away from Demyx's face into the blond's lap where he carefully placed one of his hands into both of the other's. An understanding smile lit up Demyx's previously confused expression, and he gently removed one glove, then the other, placing both at his side before picking Zexion's hands up again. His fingers began to explore, softly tracing the digits, backs, and palms, brow furrowed slightly in concentration.

While Demyx played with his hands, Zexion slowly regained control of himself. His panic and fear melted away in favor of a gentle happiness that made him smile in spite of himself. He had touched Demyx's hand before, but only in a handshake. While that contact had resulted in a tingling feeling, this was warming his entire body, yet producing the occasional illogical shiver. He had the inexplicable urge to touch Demyx's face again, but this time of his own volition. All of his previous hesitations and anxieties seemed irrelevant now; he couldn't even remember what half of them had been.

"Well, Watson," Demyx stated after a moment in a fake British accent, "from the fact that your fingers have no calluses, I can deduce that you do not play a stringed instrument." He grinned a little at himself and, dropping the accent, added, "But I knew that already. Guess I fail at being Sherlock Holmes, huh?"

Swallowing a chuckle, Zexion squeezed the hands he held once. Instantly, Demyx perked up.

"Oh hey!" he cried. "That's a good idea! If I ask you a yes or no question, you can answer by squeezing my hands. Once for yes and twice for no, maybe. Kind of like a horse and foot-stomping. Okay?"

Throat starting to hurt from holding back laughter, Zexion squeezed once. _Yes._

"Awesome! Okay then …" He dipped his head a little, expression turning slightly hesitant. "I asked you to come here so I could talk to you," he said, tone lowering. "Guess I should start talking, huh?"

_Yes._

Demyx snorted. "Hey, you weren't supposed to answer that one," he teased, briefly sticking out his tongue. The seriousness returned, however, as he continued, "Anyway, I was thinking that, if you're okay with this, with being together without me being able to see you, then maybe we could do it more often. Especially if we found a way to communicate without you talking, like the yes/no thing. And then, maybe, if we did it enough, you'd be more comfortable with me. Maybe you'd start to trust me a little more. Feel comfortable with letting me know a little more. And then maybe, in time, you would be okay with …"

Zexion frowned. He did not like the direction this was going. Only half-realizing he was doing it, he squeezed Demyx's hands twice.

"Don't say no like that!" the blond responded, frowning himself. "It was just an idea I had. What I was hoping would happen. You can't tell me I can't hope for it. If it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen, but I'm allowed to hope. Right?"

Sighing quietly, Zexion hung his head. Why did he feel thoroughly reprimanded? _Yes._

"Yeah," Demyx replied, his mood instantly improving. "But anyways, forget all that. That's future stuff and not really that important right now. So yeah, what's really important is …" Demyx stopped, and abruptly a red flush flooded into his cheeks. He dipped his head, gazing through the blindfold at their joined hands in his lap. "Okay … so …" he stammered, clearly ill at ease. "How am I going to do this? Well … directly is always good, right? So … directly …"

Confused, Zexion ducked his own head to try to get a better glimpse at the other's expression. He squeezed the hands he held once, more as an encouragement than as an answer to any of Demyx's questions.

"Echo," the blond finally said, face turning even redder than before, "you know I'm gay, right?"

Zexion blinked. What an odd thing to ask. Still, he had known of that fact previously and indicated as such.

"So I guess that doesn't bother you."

_No._

"Good. Because that would be weird, you know. To have a homophobic person willingly holding the hands of a known gay person. Just wouldn't make sense, right? Like, what's with that? … And I'm rambling again. Should probably stop. And don't you dare say yes to that, either. I'm talking to myself here." He shook a finger in the air, keeping hold of Zexion's hand while he did so and making Zexion bite his lip to keep from laughing.

"Okay, so anyway," Demyx said, returning the hand to his lap and lowering his head once more. "What I wanted to tell you. Well, you and I have been exchanging letters for a while now, and I feel like I've gotten to know you pretty well. I mean, you're infuriatingly close-lipped sometimes, but I've still managed to see a good deal of you. And like I said before, I really like you. I really, really like you. In fact, I think …" His voice trailed off in hesitation, and the red color from earlier reappeared in his cheeks. "I _think_ … I think I'm starting to … to fall for you. … In love, I mean. … Fall in love. … With you. … Echo …"

He paused for a moment, waiting for some sort of reaction, and when none came, launched ahead full-speed. "And you know, if you're straight and totally not into that, all you have to do is tell me and I'll forget it. It's still a young feeling, right? I'm still not all that sure. So I can squash it before it gets too bad. It doesn't need to ruin our friendship. But, you know, if you _are_ interested … well … that's why it's so important to me that we build up your trust in me. Because if I do fall for you and you fall for me back, then we're going to have to meet at some point, right? We can't be boyfriends if I never get to see your face, right? And that's why I thought we could get you used to being with me like this. You could get comfortable with me. And then … and then …" Slowly, Demyx's excitement wound down, more energy draining from his voice with every second. "… and you haven't moved at all yet," he noted finally. "I broke your brain, didn't I?" Sighing, he hung his head and played idly with the motionless fingers he held. "Well, at least you didn't scream and go running from the room," he mumbled to himself sadly. "That probably would have been worse."

If Zexion had wanted to speak to Demyx at the moment, he would have informed the other that his brain had not broken as the blond feared. It had, however, seized up completely, awash as it was with a wild and untamed anguish, laced with threads of disbelieving horror. Demyx's words kept circling through his head, pounding against his skull and screeching like demons. _I'm falling for you, Echo._

**_Echo_**.

Wrenching his hands from Demyx's loose grip, Zexion grabbed the man before him on either side of his face and held it steady while he pressed his forehead against the other's. The blond's initial gasp of surprise evolved into a series of half-pants of hope. "Echo?" he whispered, tentatively touching the back of one of Zexion's hands with his fingers.

His eyes shut tight, now as blind as the one he held, Zexion clenched his teeth together and tried not to release the screams of frustration that were building up within him. He had done this to himself. No one deserved the blame more than he did. He was in love with Demyx, but Demyx was in love with _Echo_ , and while Echo was a part of Zexion, he was not truly Zexion. Echo had more courage than Zexion did and the ability to say what he wanted to say without restraint. Any lack of knowledge or experience in social interactions Echo may have had went unnoticed by the simple fact that Echo did not interact with anyone. Zexion, however, was forced to do so, and his failings were painfully obvious, even to himself. Until now, he hadn't cared about those particular weaknesses, but Demyx was a social person and would surely choose someone who had those skills over him. After all, isn't that why Demyx had chosen Echo? Because Echo had no real failings?

"Echo?" Demyx tried again, gently stroking one of the hands that gripped his face. "Are you okay? You haven't gone running yet, but you feel really tense. Can I … ? Is there anything I can do?"

Now he knew that, yes, people could have their hearts broken. For years, he had scoffed at the idea. A heart didn't actually break. That phrase was just a romanticized description of the disappointment that comes with not achieving what you want. It was just another emotion, useless like all the others. He had been sure that a logically-minded man like himself would easily be able to reason past it and dismiss it as just another annoyance. He had been wrong.

Zexion's heart was broken. He could feel the fragments of it in his chest, their jagged edges pressing painfully against his skin. The desire to cry was overwhelming. Never in his life had he ever shed tears for any reason other than a natural reaction to eye-irritants or extreme pain. Now, he wanted to sob himself unconscious and never wake up again. It was such an unintelligent, melodramatic response and he was utterly disgusted with himself, but he couldn't make the feelings go away no matter how hard he tried.

He knew exactly what needed to be done, and he wished with everything that he possessed that he could do anything else.

Fighting back the threatening tears, Zexion dropped Demyx's face and instead leaned forward to encase the other man in his arms. Again, Demyx gasped in surprise, his hands rising to lightly grip the front of Zexion's coat. Despairingly, the cold and logical scientist pressed his cheek against soft blond hair and held the body of the man he loved as tightly as he could.

"Demyx," he whispered, feeling the other shiver at the sound of his voice. "I'm sorry."

And then he was on his feet, dashing for the door. Throwing it open. Running down the hall. The tears had finally come, obstructing his vision and making it difficult to navigate. And yet he kept on running. Running away.

Demyx's cries of surprise and despair followed him all the way to the back entrance and haunted him long after he had passed through.

xXx

_Dearest Echo,_

_I am so sorry about what happened yesterday! Please tell me you'll forgive me. I promise I won't ever mention my feelings again, and I'll stop asking to meet you. Just please forgive me. I feel so awful. Can we go back to what we had before? Just friends, writing letters to each other. That was okay, right? Let's go back to that, and I'll keep my mouth shut about anything else. Just chalk it up to me being a super first-class idiot and forget it. Okay?_

_Signed, Demyx_

xXx

_Echo,_

_Oh my God, it's been three days and you haven't been by to pick up my last letter? Please don't tell me you're gone for good. Please, please, PLEASE don't tell me that. Please tell me you just need some space for a couple of days. Please tell me you'll forgive me eventually._

_Please, Echo. Please._

_Demyx_

xXx

_Echo. I'm so sorry. Please come back to me._

xXx

"… hello? Excuse me, sir, are you still there?"

Demyx swallowed, his throat dry and hot. "Y-yes," he stammered in response to the woman on the phone, "I'm here. Did I … Did I hear that right? You want me to return the key to the box?"

"Yes, sir," the post office employee replied. "The account for the box has been closed, and the other owner has already turned in his key. If you could please come by within the next couple of days, turn in your copy, and pick up the three letters that were inside, we would very much appreciate it."

"All right," he somehow managed to say. "I will."

"Thank you, sir. Have a pleasant day." A quiet click signaled that she had hung up.

Slowly and mechanically, Demyx replaced the phone receiver into its cradle. Then, just as slowly, he sank to the ground.

Across the room, Leon laid down his newspaper and looked up in concern. "Demyx? Are you all right? Did something happen?"

But Demyx did not respond. He merely clutched a pair of gloves tightly to his chest and wept.


	37. Kairi

_She slowly rolls to a stop and puts one foot down on the sidewalk so she won't fall over. The house in front of her is_ **_huge_** _. It almost looks like two houses put together. The driveway is long and has one of those circle-things at the end so the cars can turn around and come out front-first. The yard is big, too, and perfectly trimmed without a single toy or ball in sight in spite of the fact that four boys live here, the youngest only a year older than she is. She swallows heavily and fights away her trembles. She is a brave girl and will not be scared of a_ **_house_** _._

_Carefully, she pedals her bike - hot pink with streamers from the handles, a basket in front, and a little bell by her hand - up the long driveway and parks it near the front sidewalk. Her hands shake a little as she walks up to the door, but she shoves them in her pockets, only pulling one out to ring the doorbell. While she waits, she bounces on her toes and tries to count the number of small purple flowers on one of the bushes beside the door._

_She is in the mid-thirties when a small blond boy opens the door. She smiles automatically, but then realizes that he is not the one she wants._

_"Who are you?" he demands of her, his voice harsh and cold._

_"Um …" she falters for a moment. "Is … is Riku here?"_

_"Maybe," he shoots back, eyes narrowing. "Why?"_

_His meanness makes her bristle and gives her back her courage. "I'm his friend," she informs the nasty boy before her. "I want to know if he wants to come ride bikes with me."_

_The boy's green eyes widen at her words, but in the next moment, they are narrowed again, even more tightly than before. "Riku doesn't have any friends!" he shouts at her. "None of us do! Go away!"_

_"No!" she shouts right back, stomping her foot and fisting her little hands on her hips. "I'm not going away! Riku does have a friend, and it's me!"_

_"No!" her opponent nearly screams. "No, you're not his friend! You_ **_can't_ ** _be!"_

_"What is going on here?" a new voice demands, and suddenly another blond boy is there in the doorway. This one is taller and bulkier, and his hair is cut close to his head. He grabs the door with one hand and yanks it open further so that he can see out without trouble._

_Sensing that this boy is nicer and more reasonable than the first, she turns her attention to him and repeats, "I'm Riku's friend. I want to know if he can come out and play."_

_The bigger boy blinks at her. "Oh," he replies. "Oh, I see. Well, I think 'Ku is upstairs. Wait here and I'll go check."_

_"No!" the smaller one screeches, yanking on the door with both hands in an attempt to close it on her. "No, he can't have a friend! He's not allowed to have a friend! It isn't_ **_fair_** _!"_

_The bigger boy just looks at him for a long minute. Then, he turns back to her, repeats, "Wait here," and shuts the door. Muffled screams filter through the cracks around the wood for a minute or so more before finally falling quiet._

_Left by herself on the front step, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other and bites her lip. She thinks of Riku and the way she first met him. His solitary walk across the playground and his surprised face when she talked to him. The joy in his eyes when he realized she meant what she said. Slowly, she realizes that she is not just Riku's newest friend. She is his only friend._

_The house in front of her is no longer scary; instead it is terribly, horribly sad and lonely._

_The door opens again, and this time the boy she wants is standing there, smiling at her. "Hi, Kairi!" he greets her happily._

_"Hi," she returns with a smile of her own. "Do you want to ride bikes with me?"_

_"Sure!" He steps through the door onto the front step, allowing her to see that the smaller of his brothers is still there in the hall, arms folded over his chest and face glowering. Following her gaze, Riku turns to her and says, "Sorry about Kadaj. He can be a total butthead sometimes."_

_"Shut up!" Kadaj snaps._

_"Make me!" Riku shoots back._

_Kadaj's fists fall to his sides, and for a moment, it looks like he is going to step forward. But then, his shoulders sag a little and he turns away. Before he can go, however, Kairi takes a step closer to the door, moving as close to him as she can without actually going inside the house._

_"Kadaj?"_

_Surprised, he turns to her, and when those green eyes fall on her, she smiles._

_"I can be your friend, too," she tells him. "If you want."_

_Beside her, Riku makes a small sound of protest, but she is watching Kadaj's reactions instead. At first, she thinks she sees the same emotions that were in Riku's face before, a kind of surprised happiness and hesitant hope. However, instead of the joy that Riku showed her, Kadaj's eyes shift to anger, and he scowls at her fiercely._

_"Ha!" he cries. "No way_ **_I_** _'d be friends with a stupid_ **_girl_** _!" He turns sharply and strides away, not looking back._

_"Kairi isn't stupid!" Riku shouts after him, but she lays a hand on his arm and smiles._

_"It's okay," she assures him. "I don't mind." Her eyes find and follow the other boy as he disappears around a corner inside the house. She feels a little sad to see the lonely boy walk away, but at least, she thinks to herself, she managed to save one of them._

_Smiling brightly, she takes Riku's hand and pulls. "Let's go!"_

_"Yeah!" he cries with a smile of his own, and together, they jump off the front step and run down the sidewalk towards the driveway._

xXx

The day after the disaster in the auditorium, neither Sora nor Roxas came to school. Kairi had been surprised, but their absence had worked in her favor. By the time the twins returned the following day, she and Kadaj had successfully spread the rumor that the whole thing had been a fight between Sora and Riku over _her_. Only a word or two in the right ear, and suddenly the entire school believed that Sora had taken Riku aside to ask permission to date his best friend, Riku had had a sudden revelation that he also had feelings for her and refused, and they had fought over it, driving Sora to tears and sending Riku into depression. The false rumor had explained away the confrontation in the hall, and no one knew or suspected that both boys would much rather kiss each other than her.

With the rumor mill appeased for now, Kairi felt comfortable concentrating instead on understanding exactly what had happened between her two friends and figuring out how best to get them back together. Riku's side she finally understood. She still wanted to strangle him for being _such_ an idiot, but at least she could relate to his feelings of fear and inadequacy. Sora, however, she didn't get at all. While she could understand him feeling hurt and betrayed to find out that the one he trusted had lied to him, she couldn't wrap her mind around the sheer magnitude of pain the boy seemed to be experiencing. He did a pretty good job of hiding it at school, but his smiles weren't the same and the joy that he seemed to radiate all the time was just gone. It didn't make sense to her, and she knew that, since Sora was the one who had to forgive Riku, if she didn't understand him and his side, nothing that she did to help them would work.

She gave him a couple of days of peace to recover by himself, but once Friday morning homeroom rolled around, she decided he had had enough time. Leaving her things at her own desk, she slipped into the seat in front of him and twisted around to face him with a friendly smile. He lowered his script of _Our Town_ which he had been reading and offered her a smile back, but those impossibly blue eyes of his held no warmth whatsoever. Instead, they were blank and cold.

"Hi, Sora," she started, determined to try no matter what.

"Hey, Kairi," he returned, his tone even but dull.

"How are you doing this morning?"

"Fine."

"That's good." She crossed her arms upon his desk and lowered her head a bit to speak more privately to him. "We need to talk."

His fake smile never faltered, telling her that he had been expecting this. "I'm sorry, Kairi," he replied steadily, as if reciting from the pages in his hands, "but I don't really feel like talking right now. Maybe later, okay?" He lifted the script and pretended to read again, but such feeble attempts to dissuade her were not about to work.

"No," she stated with firm resolve, "it's not okay. I stayed away for a couple of days because I figured you'd appreciate it, but now I want to hear your side." When he did not respond, she grabbed the top of the script and pushed it back down to the desk, suddenly irritated. " _Sora_."

Sora just looked at her. Those empty eyes stared at her, and, as she stared back, she gradually began to feel her annoyance and frustration melt into an aching sympathy. The boy she had grown to love in such a short time, the boy of sunshine and smiles, was nowhere to be found. This figure who sat in front of her was just his shell, a being who looked like him but had no soul inside. All of Sora's light had been stolen away.

Kairi's chest hurt with the power of his sadness. More than ever she wanted to help, to do something to just fix this. Gently, she detached his fingers from the script and held his hands in her own. "Sora," she murmured, "please. Talk to me." When his gaze fell away, she pressed, "Tell me what you're thinking, what you're feeling. I want to understand."

A small, unexpected laugh escaped through his lips, startling her. "I'm sorry, Kairi," he replied, his voice only just loud enough to be heard. "I appreciate you worrying about me, but even if I told you, you wouldn't understand."

His soft statement smacked into her like a punch in the gut. Groaning in disbelief and frustration, she dropped her head onto the desk with a mild thud. "Not you, too," she whined. "That's all Riku ever says to me. 'I can't tell you, Kairi. You wouldn't understand.'" A fresh wave of anger and determination rose up within her, and she lifted her head again, eyes flashing. "Well, I say try me!" she demanded in a low hiss. "How do you know I won't understand? I'm not some kind of sheltered princess, you know. I've had my share of pain in life. I've been disappointed, betrayed, lied to. I've had my heart broken. What makes you so sure that I won't understand?"

A small smile, reminiscent of his old one, had crept onto Sora's face at Kairi's moment of melodrama, but with her words it faded away. His steady gaze held her fast, covering her with a deep sadness, as he told her, "You won't understand, Kairi, because there's no way you can. You may think you've had your heart broken, but really you haven't, not the way I have." When she tried to protest, he shook his head sharply and continued, "You don't know what it's like not to have a family. You don't know what it's like to be in foster care, bouncing around from one house to another, never truly having a home. And you don't know what it's like to finally have that home only to bury your beautiful, perfect mother a mere three years after you finally found her."

Kairi gaped at him, stunned. "But …" she faltered. "But what does that have to do with … ?"

"With Riku?" he finished for her. "Everything. Because that's who I am. Those are the heartbreaks that this last one was built on. And there's no way I can explain any of them to you so that they'll make sense to you. You just can't understand, Kairi." He smiled at her, a small, lonely gesture that made her want to cry. "And I don't ever want you to."

"Sora …"

"The bell's about to ring," he interrupted her, taking back his hands and reaching for his script again. "You should get back to your desk before Miss Trepe yells at you."

Subdued, Kairi hung her head for a moment to collect herself. She had no proper rebuttal for Sora's argument, nothing at all, yet even knowing that she wouldn't understand him didn't stop her from wanting to try. She cared for him, deeply; she couldn't just sit by and do nothing. Unfortunately, she was beginning to accept that she wouldn't be getting any information from Sora himself.

Rising to her feet, she took the few steps she needed to stand next to Sora, leaned down, and, not caring about what the rest of the room thought, hugged the brunet boy tightly to her chest. "I'm not giving up on you," she whispered to him. "I don't care what you say. I'm not giving up on either of you. I love you both too much to do that."

Sora did not respond, not that she expected him to, and a moment later she straightened and returned to her own seat. Her resolve had not wavered. She would simply have to find another strategy. Now, however, she had responsibilities to take care of in the form of yet another long and boring day of school. Real life and all its heartaches would have to wait.

xXx

"All those in favor of locking them in a closet until they work it out themselves say 'Aye'!"

Setting down her cup of tea in annoyance, Kairi turned to Kadaj who had his hand up and gave him a pointed glare. "Would you shut up?" she snapped. "This is supposed to be a serious discussion."

The obnoxious blond next to her huffed and lowered his hand. Picking up his coffee, he sipped it imperiously and protested, "I'm being serious. Neither of them are cooperating, so I say throw 'em together and let them either fuck or kill each other." He flicked a lock of hair over his ear and leaned back in his chair to gaze out the giant window of the donut shop. "Either way," he added, half to himself, "at least we'll have done something."

"Ugh." Disgusted with the boy beside her, she turned instead to the one seated across from her. "Ignore him, please," she said. "He's an ass."

Roxas looked up from picking at his muffin and gave her a half-hearted smile. "Sure, no problem. Although," he added, "I'm still not entirely sure why I'm here. Technically, we're on opposite sides."

"No," she assured him immediately. "No, we're not. All of us want the same thing. You two want your brothers to be happy, and I …" She sighed and looked down into her drink. "I want them both to be happy."

"You want them to be happy or you want them to get back together? They're not necessarily the same thing."

Roxas's observant question surprised her, but before she could think of a proper response, Kadaj had leaned forward again, saying, "We want them to be happy. However, at this point, it looks like the fastest and easiest way for that to happen is to get them back together." He dipped his chin a bit, giving his gaze a sharp, pointed quality to it as he looked over at the brother of his brother's ex-boyfriend. "What do you think, Roxas?" he asked. "Do you think Riku can make Sora happy?"

Kairi held her breath as the two boys stared at each other. The question of what Roxas thought of Riku had been the big unknown when she had first considered this meeting. Her conversation with Sora the previous morning in homeroom had convinced her that they would not be able to get anywhere with the brunet boy without the help of his twin, but neither she nor Kadaj had the slightest clue what Roxas thought of this whole situation. She had wanted to work up to the question a little more subtly, but trust Kadaj to jump right in without any warning or preparations.

Roxas had held Kadaj's gaze for a minute or so, but then he dipped his chin and stared at the table instead. Very slowly, he replied, "I think that Sora has never been happier than he was during the time he was with Riku. I also think that, whoever Riku used to be and whatever it was he used to do with himself, he is now wholly devoted to my brother." His blue eyes lifted and locked with first Kadaj's, then Kairi's as he stated, "I agree with you. We need to get them back together."

"Awesome," Kairi breathed, letting the relief wash over her. Next to her, Kadaj only smirked, but she could tell that he was happy as well. "So," she continued, feeling much more confident in herself, "it seems that we have two tasks here: get Sora to forgive Riku -"

"Easier said than done," Roxas murmured.

"- and get Riku to forgive himself."

"Also easier said than done," Kadaj frowned.

"I'm sure we can do it if we work together," she insisted. Her companions seemed less than convinced, but she refused to give in to their pessimism. Leaning forward and folding her hands on the table, she attacked the first problem by saying, "Roxas, what can you tell us about Sora's side? He flat-out refused to tell me anything yesterday, saying that I wouldn't understand because I didn't grow up in the foster care system like you two did. While I can agree with him somewhat, I don't believe it's as completely hopeless as he thinks it is. What do you think? Can you explain it to me, at least a little?"

For a long moment, Roxas did not respond. He simply stared at his half-eaten muffin with a blank expression on his face. Then, he shifted slightly in his seat and replied, "No. I don't think I can. But it's not because you won't understand it. It's because I don't want to." When Kairi began to protest, he lifted a hand to stop her and, after a breath, continued, "You don't grow up in the foster care system. You survive it. There's a lot of that part of my life that I want to forget. Even so, I think I can explain what Sora is feeling right now without having to give you the details."

Satisfied, Kairi leaned back in her seat to listen while Roxas lifted his head to speak. "An orphan," he began, "learns early on never to get his hopes up. All it takes is one or two possible adoptions that fall through, and you learn. I've been a cynical bastard for years, and it's only recently that I've been able to appreciate the good things in my life without expecting them to be ripped right out from under me. Sora, however, has always had that little seed of optimism in him that just won't die. Even when he knew that we weren't going to get adopted this time or that this foster home wasn't going to work out, he couldn't help from feeling disappointed."

Kairi sighed and tipped her head to the side. "I can see that," she confessed. "Sora's a living sunbeam. I can just see him trying desperately to push his way through the rainclouds and failing."

Roxas smiled at her, a hesitant, slightly guarded smile. "He was allowed to shine for a little bit after we actually got adopted, but we only had a few years before the clouds returned. And this time it didn't just rain; it flooded the world."

"Your Mom died," Kadaj commented quietly. He had leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, chin down and eyes half-closed.

"Yeah," Roxas returned in a similar tone. "It was like some divine power was reminding us that we shouldn't bother to get our hopes up. That happiness just wasn't for us. There was even a brief period of time - extremely brief, thank God - when Sora wondered if her death was our fault, if we were somehow cursed." When Kairi made a little whimpering noise of sympathy, he smiled and her and assured her, "I convinced him otherwise pretty quickly, don't worry. But my point is that those thoughts were there. We had learned yet again not to expect anything good or happy in our lives to last."

"It's a wonder," Kadaj said pointedly, "that Sora ever agreed to go out with Riku at all."

"I'm getting to that," Roxas told him. He took a drink of water from the bottle beside him, then continued, "Losing our Mom was a terrible blow to both of us, but truthfully, it could have been worse. We were both very happy living with our adopted parents, and we had both opened ourselves up and lost some of our previous cynicism - Sora more than me, of course - but there was a bit of it that we held on to in spite of everything. Our home life was great and we thrived in it, but there was something …" He paused, struggling for the right wording. "Something … not right about it."

To Kairi's surprise, Kadaj snickered. "Something perhaps to do with the fact that your father is gay?" he asked teasingly.

"He's bi, actually," Roxas replied with a small smirk of his own. "But yeah."

Dozens of thoughts, all of them questions, rushed through Kairi's head. "W-what … ?" she stammered. "Your dad's … ? How … ?" Suddenly irritated, she turned on Kadaj and demanded, "How did you know that?"

Kadaj's smirk had turned into a full grin, aimed directly at her. "I'll tell you later," he replied with an evasive wave, and when she opened her mouth to gripe at him some more, he took her by the shoulders and turned her body back to Roxas again. "Later," he laughed. "It's not important. Listen."

She harrumphed at him but let it go. As much as it annoyed her to be kept out of the loop, she knew he was right. It wasn't as important as learning about Sora.

Across from her, Roxas waited with a smile on his face until she had resettled herself. Then, he continued, "So like I said, we always knew that there was something wrong with our parents' marriage. We loved them and trusted them, but there was always that small doubt that we couldn't get rid of, that tiny expectation that it wouldn't last. We were thinking divorce rather than death, but the bottom line is that when it happened, we were devastated but not completely surprised. It could have been worse.

"But with Riku …" Roxas trailed off again and shook his head in a kind of sad resignation. "Riku brought out the absolute best in Sora in a way that no one else ever has. He gave himself to Riku completely, no hesitations, no doubts. Never had he shone so brightly. I … I don't …" He leaned back in his chair and looked out the window to the street, his expression tender and just a tiny bit afraid. "I don't know where he got the courage."

"It was the same with 'Ku," Kadaj interjected. He also turned his gaze beyond the window, as if by talking to the same thing Roxas watched could bring them closer. "My brothers and I have lived our entire lives hiding ourselves behind masks. We've done it so much that we don't even have to think about it anymore. It's a natural reflex." A little grin flickered over his face as he said, "Kairi hates it. But that's the way we are. With Sora, though …" He shook his head lightly in wonder. "Whenever 'Ku talked about Sora, all his masks faded away. I don't think he even knew he was doing it. He just connected so deeply with Sora on that personal level that he couldn't help but show all of himself."

Kairi dropped her eyes to her tea. The memory of Riku's face during that first lunch returned to her in full detail. He had tried to hide it from her, but she had seen the vulnerability in his expression and the fear in his eyes. She had seen his true face, the real Riku, the Riku who had given his heart entirely to Sora.

"That's love," she said softly, her lips curving up into a smile that she couldn't hold back. "Isn't it?"

"Guess so," Kadaj replied. He turned to her then, and she watched as one of his favorite masks slipped into place. "A Gast in love!" he commented brightly. "Who'da thunk it?"

Faced with that manic personality that she knew so well, Kairi found herself wondering what the true Kadaj was like. She had seen that crazy energy in action so many times over the years, watched him throw countless tantrums, and listened to that cruel tongue slice others into ribbons so often that she had grown used to it. But they were all disguises, a way to hide the fear and insecurity that she knew lurked somewhere behind that smile.

"You're a Gast, too, Kadaj," she heard herself saying, not entirely knowing the reason why.

Stunned, he blinked at her, and for the slightest second, she thought she saw a hint of something different flicker in those green eyes. A heartbeat later, it was gone, leaving her to wonder what she had seen as he returned his attention to Roxas.

"So, it sounds like both of our brothers gave themselves completely to the other, no restrictions, and had their entire selves at risk when the whole thing came crashing down around them."

"Exactly," Roxas answered. He spared Kairi a quick glance but immediately returned his attention to Kadaj. If he had noticed what had passed between them, he made no indication of it. "For Sora, it was like returning to that very first heartbreak. Once you experience a couple of them, the lingering scars tend to make the fresh wounds hurt less. But that first one is deep and raw and indescribably painful. He learned all over again never to expect happiness for himself from anywhere or anyone. Never to trust. Never to believe."

"Shit," Kadaj commented, turning his gaze back outside.

Kairi agreed with him but kept it to herself. Instead, she asked Roxas, "Is that why Sora shut the door on Riku when he was apologizing? Because Sora didn't trust or believe him?"

"No," Roxas replied with a sudden sadness that surprised her. "No, that's not why." He took another sip of water, eyes unfocusing with thought, and when he spoke again, the words came out slowly as if difficult to say. "He never really told me why he did that. He doesn't want to talk about it. But I think I know why. It wasn't Riku's apology or his explanations that hurt Sora so badly that he couldn't stand it anymore. It was Riku saying that he loved him."

"He shut the door when Riku said he loved him?" At Roxas's nod of confirmation, she shook her head in disbelief and asked, "Why? Wouldn't that, you know, make him happier? To know that Riku wasn't just using him?"

"Perhaps with someone else it would have," Roxas conceded, "but not with Sora. I think that for Sora, knowing that Riku loves him just made everything worse. As long as he thought that Riku was just using him, that he didn't mean anything special to Riku, he could have walked away and known that it never would have worked out. That somewhere down the line it would have fallen apart anyway. That there wasn't even a chance for them. But when Riku said he loved him, that last defense got blasted away, and suddenly they _could_ have had their happy ending. There _had_ been a chance. But he lost it. He wasn't just walking away from a bad relationship anymore; he was walking away from everything he ever dreamed of and yet still couldn't have."

For several minutes, no one said anything. Then, Kadaj repeated in a harsh whisper, " _Shit_."

"Yeah," Roxas responded, just as quietly.

"This is never going to work."

"Yes, it is!" Kairi insisted, hotly. She reached out and snagged one of their hands in each of her own. "It's going to work. It has to."

"Kairi …"

"When Riku apologized," she interrupted, turning to Roxas, "he remembered to mention he hasn't had sex with anyone since October, right? Did that help at all?"

"I don't know," Roxas told her, "but that wasn't really the problem. I mean, yeah, no one wants to find out his boyfriend has been sleeping around, but what upset Sora so much wasn't the sex. It was the lies."

"The lies?"

"Yeah. The fact that Riku lied to him. That's what made Sora break up with Riku and that's why he has no intention of ever taking him back. Sora can't forgive anyone who lies, and, to a lesser degree, neither can I."

Kairi sat back in shock and confusion. "But …" she protested. "But everyone lies." She released the boys' hands and waved one between herself and Kadaj. "We lied to the whole school to protect Sora's and Riku's reputations. Does that mean he can't forgive us either?" When Roxas refused to look at her, she pressed, "Are you telling me that if someone lies to protect someone else or to protect himself, if someone panics or makes a mistake or makes an error in judgment, then that person is forever blacklisted in Sora's book no matter how much he apologizes for it or how much remorse he feels? That's just stupid!"

For a moment, Roxas said nothing. Then, very softly and in a dead voice, he intoned, "I promise you, Sora, that we will never try to separate you from your brother. … We'll find a home for the both of you together. Trust me. … No, Sora, there's no bullying at this orphanage. You two are completely safe. I promise you. … Now, Sora, all you have to do is be a good boy and you'll never have to endure that again. I swear to you. … Trust me. … I promise."

Something in her stomach clenched, and she had to inhale slowly through her nose. "All right," she said when she had recovered herself. "I get it. However, I still maintain that it's stupid. If Sora refuses to distinguish between a lie that should be forgiven and one that shouldn't, if he refuses to allow other people to be human, he is going to live a very lonely and unhappy life."

Across from her, Roxas lifted his head, and the blue eyes that met hers were strong and clear. "I agree," he said with a smile. "Completely."

Kairi's heart soared. She had been so scared for a moment that all her hopes and plans were going to fall apart right in front of her, but then Roxas's smile had cleared her doubts and eased all her worries. "All right!" she cried happily, feeling all at once like she wanted to giggle or sing or both. "Let's make some plans!"

Eyes twinkling, she leaned forward over the table and grinned at him. Roxas grinned back and joined her in a little conspiratorial huddle in the middle of the table. Sitting calmly in his chair, Kadaj sipped his coffee and just watched them with a small smirk on his face.

A good twenty minutes later, Kairi's head was buzzing with ideas and strategies as she said good-bye to Roxas and left the donut shop towards the parking lot. She was so distracted that she walked right past Kadaj's car, only stopping when she heard him clear his throat loudly. Ignoring his grin, she apologized and quickly backtracked to the passenger side.

"Thanks again for the ride," she said when he had slipped into the driver's seat.

"Not a problem," he replied, turning the ignition and sliding the shift into reverse. "I said I would help you with 'Ku, and that includes acting as a taxi service if necessary."

She laughed a little but made no other comment as they exited the parking lot and pulled out onto the main road. The rest of the ride passed in silence, but Kairi noted with confusion that it was not a comfortable one. She and Kadaj had never been close, but she knew him well enough to know that his silences were few and rarely innocuous. Concerned, she periodically stole sideways glances at him as he drove. They told her little, although he didn't seem to be angry or worried. If anything, he looked pensive which was a very strange expression to see on the older boy's face.

"All right," he said lightly when they pulled into her driveway. "Everybody out."

Coming to a decision, Kairi unbuckled her belt and turned her body to him so that she could examine his face openly. "Kadaj," she said, "what's on your mind?" Instantly, a grin began to slide into place, but she shot out her hands and slapped him lightly on both cheeks. "Quit it!" she said to his shocked, wide eyes. "I don't want to talk to your insane-person mask. I want to talk to you, so get rid of this thing." With one hand, she pretended to wipe his face away, not touching his skin but staying close enough to get her point across. "You don't need this," she insisted. "Not with me. You said yourself that you'd trust me with your secrets. I'm not asking for those, just what's on your mind." Sighing, she returned her hands to her own side of the car and finished, "There's nobody else here. Just me. So come on."

Kadaj swallowed. His face was completely blank, another mask but this one she could deal with. It at least wasn't a false personality planted on top of a real one. "I was just …" he started, eyes skirted to the side so as to avoid hers. "I was just thinking that 'Ku is very lucky. To have a friend like you." He paused, waiting for Kairi to respond, but when she didn't, he added, so lowly that she had to strain to hear, "And I was sort of wishing that I had one, too."

Kairi bit her lip as a wave of tender sympathy swept over her. She hadn't been expecting that. For some reason, it reminded her of that split-second moment in the donut shop when something unknown had flickered through his eyes. Had it been jealousy that she had seen? Or longing? Or something else entirely?

"But you do have one," she replied to his last statement. "I'm your friend, too, you know." When he refused to react, she teased, "Unless you still don't want to be friends with a stupid girl."

Finally, he smiled, and the simplicity of it kindled a warmth in her chest. "You're not stupid," he told her. "You're amazing." And then he moved, turning back to the steering wheel and lowering his head so that his hair hid his face, although not before she caught a glimpse of what looked like a pink flush rising in his cheeks. "Now get out," he snapped, and his voice was laced with the petulant anger of a mask she knew very well.

Biting her tongue and fighting down her own mild blush, Kairi did as she was told. She had barely closed the door before the car began to back out of her driveway again, but once he had reached the street, Kadaj waited for her to walk to her front door. As she opened it, she looked back over her shoulder for one final look at those guarded green eyes. They held hers for only a second, and then they were gone as he put the car in gear and drove away.


	38. Sora

_His skates dash down the road, wheels skidding against the asphalt, buzzing. Voices cry out from every direction, but he puts his head down and concentrates._

_"Hey! Look out!"_

_"Cover him! Someone cover him!"_

_"Over here! I'm open!"_

_"No, me! Pass it to me!"_

_"What? You're not on our team!"_

_"Was worth a try, right?"_

_"Sora! Head's up!"_

_Alert and ready, he lowers his stick to the ground, hearing it scrape and slide. The little plastic puck smacks into it and tries to bounce away, but he quickly gains control of it and pushes forward towards the goal. His adrenaline shoots up with the knowledge that he is now the most important person in the game. All eyes are now on him._

_"Shoot, he's fast!"_

_"Go, Sora! Go!"_

_"Shoot it!"_

_"No, pass it!"_

_"Catch him! Catch him!"_

_The summer wind washes over his face as he moves, and it smells of heat and dirt and sweat. A defenseman closes in on him, but he swerves around him, guiding the puck around the threat with a fluidity born from much practice. The thrill of competition is soaring through his body. He is flying down the road, a lightning bolt on roller skates._

_Suddenly, there is a familiar figure beside him, deep blue eyes glancing over at him even as they avoid and bypass the other team's members. The other boy doesn't say a word, but he can read the instructions in those eyes and that open expression. Ducking his head, he positions his body as if he is about to shoot, but at the last second, he passes instead, catching the boys who are covering him completely off-guard. His teammate catches the pass with graceful skill and, in practically the same movement, sends the puck to the very back of the net for a well-earned goal._

_A victory cry rises up as his other teammates surround the two of them at once. Their hands clap them on the back and muss up their hair in celebration._

_"All right! Good goal, Serge!"_

_"Nice pass, Sora!"_

_"Way to go!"_

_He grins wildly and looks over at his teammate. The other boy sends him a smile and a small thumbs-up before motioning for everyone to take a water break. The crowd disperses, each boy heading for his water bottle and some shade. Feeling sort of gross from all the sweat, he flops down next to Roxas and reaches for his water. His brother does not congratulate him on his assist, but half-smirks to himself in a knowing way before concentrating on rehydrating his own body._

_Across the street several other boys are sitting together and chatting as they drink, but one in particular has his undivided attention. Those blue eyes, so deep, so mysterious, they make his heart race in ways that have nothing to do with exercise. And those lips, lips that frequently smile but rarely part in speech, he wants so badly to feel them on his own. That body, too, delicate yet strong, he wants to hold it, touch it, press it against himself in a passionate embrace._

_"You're staring again," Roxas whispers to him._

_"I am not," he tries to reply, but somewhere around the second word, the sounds stick in his throat. Someone else has appeared on the other side of the road. Someone with long red-blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, a cocky little smile, and a body to die for. She is talking to Serge who, he realizes to his horror, is talking back, and then she squats down, leans forward, and … and …_

_A little whimpering noise escapes him as he turns away, unable to watch any longer._

_"Hey," Roxas says, poking an older boy who is sitting near them. "Who's that girl over there?"_

_"Hm?" The boy glances over for a moment before replying quickly, "Oh, that's Serge's girlfriend. Don't remember her real name. Starts with an 'S', I think. We all just call her Kid."_

_"I see. Thanks." Roxas returns his attention to his water bottle, pretending to fiddle with the cap. He drops his voice to a whisper as he says, "I'm sorry, Sora."_

_He shakes his head a little and manages a smile. He does not begrudge Serge his happiness or even Kid hers, but once it would be nice if a crush of his did not end this way. Just once he would like to crush on someone who was actually open to the thought of a relationship with another guy. Just once he would like to have a crush return his feelings, if only a little. Just once, it would be nice to be happy._

_But, he supposes as he puts away his water and rises for another round, it seems that once again he will have to wait for his turn at love._

xXx

For Sora, like for most kids over the age of six or seven, school was something to be endured. He didn't hate it by any means, but if he had the choice, naturally he would rather sleep late and then spend the day playing sports or video games than wake up early just to learn about dead people and what they invented, wrote, or did to start a war. Still, it was something he had to do. Something, Cloud had told him, that would help him learn about himself and shape him into the adult he wanted to be.

Those first few days after he had broken up with Riku, however, were pure hell. He knew how to deal with sadness, he had dealt with enough of it in his short life to practically be an expert in the subject, but this was like nothing he had ever experienced. As much as it hurt and as much as he hated it, he was used to disappointment. He should have been able to steel his resolve and force his way through it until the sharp edge of the pain dulled enough to shove it into the back of his heart where all the other disappointments dwelled. But for some reason, he couldn't. He couldn't seem to find the self-control. And so he suffered without rest from an anguish that only grew with time until he feared it would consume him.

Sora wept with relief when Roxas brought the news that they would not have to go to school on the day following the break-up. He knew he needed time to gather his scattered thoughts together. It would take an entire day, if not more, before he could function in public. He couldn't find the energy to move; he didn't trust himself to speak. Only Roxas's stubbornness convinced him to eat anything. By the time the day ended, he had stopped crying, although Sora wondered as he lay awake in bed that night if it was because he had improved or because he no longer had any tears left to shed.

The prospect of school the next day absolutely horrified him. It wasn't so much facing the teachers or the school body in general that he dreaded. No, it was facing Kairi that he knew he simply would not be able to survive. Kairi, his Student Council guide. Kairi, who had become such a good friend in so short a time. Kairi, who had told him the truth about Riku and who would surely know by now what those words had done. The thought of seeing her, of looking into her eyes, turned his intestines into liquid ice. He at least had some confidence that he could act and bluff his way through his classes, but he knew there was no way he would be able to hide from her. His fate was sealed, his doom determined.

Unfortunately, Cloud simply would not let him stay home another day. Sora whined a bit, but he stopped immediately when his father threatened to put him bodily into the car, drive him to school, and abandon him on the front step while still in his pajamas. Like a good and proper teenager, Sora grumbled a bit under his breath about the unfairness of the whole thing, but he knew he couldn't complain much. After all, he couldn't accuse Cloud of not understanding. His dad knew all about heartbreak and loss.

To Sora's surprise, his first day back hadn't been that bad. Apart from the occasional small encouraging smile, Kairi ignored him. At lunch, Sora sat with Roxas and his friends, although he discovered that he needn't have bothered. Both Kairi and Riku abandoned their normal table to sit in a private corner with Kadaj. Sora didn't bother to watch them; he didn't think he could handle looking at Riku for more than a few seconds at a time. Thankfully, his control held for the duration of the day, and he even had enough left over to get through about half his homework before he broke down again.

And so the days passed, one after the other. On Friday, Kairi finally confronted him but in a gentle enough way that he easily rebuffed her while keeping his composure. The weekend was nothing more than two days of losing himself to TV and video games. By Monday, the pain had gotten to the point where, as long as no one talked about it, he could ignore it enough to function pretty much normally. In fact, by the time classes had ended, he had begun to believe that he truly would be able to live on and at least experience the rest of his life even if he wouldn't be able to enjoy it.

That afternoon, he and Roxas had to attend the first of many practices for the upcoming spring play. The two of them had in fact received the role of the Stage Manager, and nearly all of the other roles had been assigned as expected as well. Sora truly regretted trying out, not because he was afraid of taking on such an important role with so little experience, but because being in the play meant that he would be in close contact with Riku for several hours a day, four days a week. He doubted he would be able to avoid the other boy for that entire time. Of course, as far as Sora knew, Roxas still hated Axel's guts. Perhaps, he thought as he wandered toward Roxas's locker to pick up his twin, they could avoid their respective undesirables together.

The halls were still pretty crowded so soon after dismissal, so Sora didn't realize that Roxas had company until he was practically standing on them. When he finally noticed, surprise momentarily froze him, but he soon recovered and continued his approach, albeit more slowly. Seifer was standing next to Roxas, leaning on a nearby locker and doing everything in his power to appear dangerous and menacing. Roxas was sorting through books and mostly ignoring him, although once or twice he said a word in reply to the bully's taunts and threats. Just as Sora got close enough to hear what they were saying, Roxas shut the locker, slung his bag onto his back, and turned away. Before he could take more than two steps, however, Seifer grabbed his upper arm and hissed something in his ear. Roxas said nothing, but he gave the other boy a look that could have burned through solid rock and shook off the hand with little effort.

"Everything okay?" Sora asked his brother once the blond had stepped up beside him. Together, they headed off to the auditorium, neither one looking back at the bully who was still glaring at them.

"Yeah," Roxas replied in a bored tone. "He's pushing me for a fight. I don't feel like giving it to him. Not yet."

"Has he threatened me yet?" Sora asked, more as a way to make conversation than out of anxiety over the answer.

"Yeah, a couple of times. I doubt he'll go through with it, but keep your eye out anyway."

"Sure."

When they reached the auditorium, Sora let Roxas go first. He walked down the side aisle, staring fixedly at his brother's back and not letting his eyes stray for a second. Even though he hadn't cried for a couple of days now, he didn't want to risk catching a glimpse of someone who could send him hurtling back into an uncontrollable breakdown with just one look of his eyes. There would be no escape for him this time if he couldn't handle it; Larxene would catch him before he got very far.

Their director was already at the front of the room, leaning against the wall of the stage and chatting with both the flamboyant costume designer and Axel. Sora didn't know what the three adults were talking about, but considering the way the two men kept taking notes on their copies of the script, it seemed to be production related. The red-head had his hair pulled up today, and Sora had to admit it made him look much younger. As the twins slid into seats and dove into their bags for scripts and pencils, the memory of what the older man had done for him surfaced in Sora's mind.

"I …" he said softly, "I should thank Axel." When Roxas lifted an eyebrow in question, he added, "For last week."

His brother frowned and shook his head slightly. "Don't thank him," he replied, leaning back in his seat. "It'll just go to his head, and that's big enough."

"But …"

"Don't," Roxas insisted, and then, with his eyes averted and in a much softer tone, he added, "I already thanked him for you."

Sora blinked in confusion at both the admission and the tone in which it had been spoken. Before he could question Roxas, however, his brother's blue eyes grew wide and one of his hands shoved down on Sora's head until his nose was practically touching the pages of the script he held. Then, Roxas hunkered down next to him and buried his face in his own script.

Sora didn't have to ask to know who had just walked in.

About ten minutes later, Larxene started rehearsal. After a round of general announcements and tentative schedules, she announced that, since so much of the production depended on visual, they were going to skip the traditional read-through and get started right away on blocking. She then ordered the Strife twins up on stage and told everyone else to entertain themselves until they were needed.

"Although," she added casually, "if anyone gets too loud, I'll rip out your tongues."

No one thought for a second that she was joking.

Once the Strifes were on stage, she had them gather around her near the front and sit down. The smile she gave them was sweet and yet somehow, Sora felt, still frightening. "Okay, boys," she said, "here's how this is going to work. I said that the part of the Stage Manager is going to be split, but really, Sora, you're going to have the majority of the lines. Roxas, your role is going to be more physical and visual. Hand gestures, expressions, that kind of thing, while Sora here just keeps on babbling like everything is perfectly fine. Now, let's look at the first scene." She spread her script out between them on the floor, and they saw that her copy was covered in stage directions, extremely detailed and apparently color-coded.

"I'm not going to make either of you stand around while the audience comes in. Instead, I want you both to enter at the same time, meet in the middle, and shake hands. Then, Sora, you turn to the audience and start your speech. Just do it normally until the line 'The day is May 7, 1901.' Now, Roxas." She pointed a pencil at him for emphasis. "During Sora's spiel, just stand there looking bored, but when he says that line, I want you to come to life. Look surprised and a bit concerned. Lean over to him and whisper in his ear. The idea is that you're telling him that, no, it's not 1901, it's 2001. Sora." The pencil swung towards him. "When Roxas tells you this, you are unable to cope. I want to see complete mental shutdown. Say the line again, and a third time. As many times as you like. Stutter over it. After a few seconds, though, I want you to start groping about in your pocket, like a person having an attack and looking for their medication. What you're looking for are these. Marly!"

"Got them right here, my lovely," Marluxia responded, coming up beside her with a smile. Into her waiting palm, he gently placed a pair of glasses. Larxene inspected them for a moment and then, satisfied, held them out to Sora to take. As he did, he noticed with surprise that the lenses were tinted a rather dark shade of red.

"I made them darker than the generally accepted pink," the costume designer explained, "so that they would show up more noticeably under the stage lights. We need everyone in the theater to understand that when you put those on, you're looking at the world through a nostalgic, idealistic haze."

"Exactly," Larxene commented, giving him a smile. When she returned her attention to Sora, however, the rare moment of tenderness had fled before her usual business-like demeanor. She continued, "Once you put those on, I want your relief to be obvious. Straighten up. Smile. Say the line one last time with finality. Then go on with the rest of your speech. Now, Roxas, when he puts those on, I want you to visibly give up on him, and while he's going on about hitching posts and railroads, you'll be bringing in the real scenery. …"

Sora's attention wandered as Larxene continued explaining the stage directions to Roxas, and he found himself staring blankly at the glasses he held in his hand. Seeing the world through rose-colored glasses. Would it really be that bad? On the one hand, he would never see the world as it truly was. On the other, he would never have to be hurt like this, never have to feel this pain. It would be rather like a trap or a cage; the second he took them off he would be faced with everything he had previously been too blind to see. But as long as he never took them off, as long as he stayed safe within that cheerful pink world, he would always be happy, right? Wouldn't that, possibly, in some strange way, be all right?

"Okay, let's have a reading," Larxene declared, interrupting his thoughts. "Sora, you go stage right; Roxas, stage left. Then come on together and let's see what you can do."

Sora sighed and put away such thoughts for now. The glasses went as best they could into his pocket - he would have to talk to Marluxia about that aspect of his costume - and after a brief telepathic discussion with Roxas over which was stage right, he headed off to the wings. A moment later, both twins entered and did their reading to the best of their abilities. Sora expected to be yelled at several times during the process, but Larxene let them go through the entire section they had previously discussed undisturbed. She just watched them stumble and stutter through their first run with an unreadable expression on her face.

Once they had finished, Sora looked down a red-tinted Larxene and tried to smile. "So, um … " he asked hesitantly. "Was that as bad as it felt? Should we do it again?"

Their director did not reply at first. She simply stood there with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes slightly narrowed. Then, she slapped both of her hands on the stage, making the Strifes as well as several other students in the auditorium jump. "Okay," she demanded, "what the hell was that?"

Discouraged and more than a little scared, Roxas and Sora exchanged glances. "So," the blond twin half-laughed, "it really was that bad?"

"Yes," Larxene answered, but then she shook her head and amended, "I mean no. Yes, it wasn't very good, but I didn't expect it to be. Your deliveries are rough and need both practice and confidence, but it isn't anything I can't work with." Her sharp eyes, red at the moment, swung to Sora, and he cringed. "What I want to know is what's going on with you, Sora?"

"Um …"

"Where the hell is your smile?"

His heart sank, although he tried his best to cover it up. Lifting one hand to point at his face, he put on a silly grin and replied hopefully, "Here?"

Those narrowed eyes told him quite clearly that he wasn't fooling anyone. "That," Larxene informed him, "is not the smile I cast. The smile I cast had a joy in it that couldn't be faked. It was so bright that a spotlight wasn't necessary. It was kindness, innocence, and love all wrapped up in one package with pearly white teeth. It was _exactly_ what I wanted. Now, what did you do with it?"

Sora floundered. He didn't know what he could say that would appease his director and yet not result in him melting into tears right there in the middle of the stage. In a panic, his gaze shot up and flew over the seats out in the main area of the room, as if looking for an answer among the empty seats and curious faces. It was a knee-jerk reaction, one he couldn't properly control, but he regretted it almost instantly. Their eyes met so quickly, it was as if they had been drawn together magnetically. The expression in those eyes was so raw, full of pain and regret. Their connection lasted only a second - both boys looked away almost immediately - but it was enough to send a bolt of pain shooting through Sora's chest. If not for Roxas's hand suddenly latching onto his shoulder, he would have staggered and fallen.

"Sora hasn't been feeling well," he heard his brother say in his ear. "I mean, he's good enough to come to school, but he's still tired, you know?"

Whatever Larxene's answer was going to be, Axel cut it off by appearing at her side and whispering in her ear. Angry though she was, she listened to him without comment, and by the time he had finished, her frown had softened into one of resignation. She sighed and looked up at Sora again, this time with something that almost resembled sympathy. "Fine. I get it. But listen here, Sora …" The pencil stabbed at him, emphasizing her words as she continued, "I understand that illnesses and bad days happen, but when you walk through those doors and enter a theater, you leave those things behind. The show must go on and all that crap. Now, I know you two are new to this so I'm going to cut you some slack today, but tomorrow, I expect both of you to show up here focused enough and determined enough to work through whatever is keeping you from giving me your best. It doesn't matter how high your fever is or what you got on that test or which girl said she would or wouldn't go out with you. Once you step up on that stage, the rest of your life gets left behind. Understand?"

Subdued, Sora nodded. He felt Roxas beside him do the same.

"Good," Larxene finished with a small smile. She gestured lightly to the set of stairs that sat on one side of the stage and ordered, "Come on down. You can rest for today." Before Sora could do or say anything to thank her, she had turned and was addressing the seated students in tones that carried through the whole room and bounced back from the far walls. "Okay, moving on. I want Tidus, Olette, Riku -"

Sora blocked out the rest, put his head down, and scurried off the stage.

Once he and Roxas had resumed their seats, he curled up against his brother, his head on the blond's shoulder, and just stared at the seat in front of him with unseeing eyes. The pain wasn't stabbing at him anymore, but it lingered with a persistent ache that blanked out his mind and sapped his energy. He barely noticed when someone slid into the row behind them and sat down in the seat behind the unoccupied one next to him. But then that person leaned forward against the empty seat and spoke, and Sora's heart sank even further.

"She acts all cruel and heartless, but she isn't really. The depth of her understanding is amazing, and she knows exactly when to push and when to let go."

Roxas hummed, the noise in his throat buzzing against the crown of Sora's head. "I suppose so," he replied noncommittally.

Sora shut his eyes and tried not to tense too obviously. She had to be here for a reason. It couldn't have been simply to chat and pass the time. While she had stayed away from him for the entire day, he had seen the way she looked at him, the determination in her eyes.

Reading his mind as he so often did, his brother asked her, "What are you doing here?"

"Wanted to talk," she replied easily. "I wanted to know what it's going to take to get Sora to give Riku another chance."

Sora flinched, and the hand that held his tightened its grip comfortingly. He had no intention of giving Riku a second chance. What would be the point? He only had one heart to break, and it was already ruined beyond repair.

Above his head, Roxas answered for him. "Why should he? And why does Riku even deserve a second chance? He's a liar and a player. Why should Sora willingly offer up his heart to someone like that a second time?"

"Because he's not like that anymore. People change all the time, especially when they have a reason to."

"You expect us to believe that? You're his best friend. Why should we believe anything you say?"

"Because I _am_ his best friend," she stated. "I want what's best for him overall. I want him to be happy, not just today, but always." She sighed. "He's miserable right now. Worse than he's ever been before, and I've seen him at some pretty low points. I've never seen him like this."

_How do you know that?_ Sora thought to himself from within his self-imposed darkness. _He's an actor, an excellent one. How do you know he isn't lying to you, too?_

"He could just be acting," Roxas said, practically pulling the words from Sora's thoughts. "I mean, look at him right now. He doesn't seem to be any different than how he usually is."

They paused, and Sora dared to crack open his eyelids enough to see the stage. Larxene had finished the initial directions to the new group of students, and now they were starting their first read-through. Apparently Howie, who delivered milk in the original play, now owned a Starbucks, Joe Jr. was a barista, and Bessie was no longer a horse but Olette as another barista who had to endure something close to sexual harassment from her boss. As Sora watched, Riku, as Dr. Gibbs, made it rather clear to a leering Howie that the twins he had been visiting the night before were not the infants about which he planned to tell his wife.

"He looks the same," Kairi stated calmly, "because he's comfortable in that mask. It's the same one he's worn to school since I first met him. Confidence and sexuality he can do in his sleep. What he _can't_ fake, what he _can't_ act, is sincerity and tenderness. Neither can he fake misery and heartbreak. And he can't fake tears. None of the Gasts can. Loz went through a cry-baby stage when he was a kid, and their dad came down on all of them so hard that now none of them will shed a tear unless they are absolutely dying inside."

Against his will, Sora's mind revisited those soft, tender moments of their first date. Riku's terrible nerves. The fear in his eyes. That gentle, hopeful smile when the fear finally disappeared. After that horrible day last week, those memories were now tainted with the doubt that everything had been, if not wholly then at least partly, part of Riku's seduction game. But even if they weren't, even if Kairi was right, even if all of those emotions and actions were completely, whole-heartedly true …

"And you don't have to take my word for it about his sudden abstinence," Kairi continued, unaware of the internal turmoil of the one beside her. "I figure he has about a week before the Rumor Mill explodes on him. The girls he used to spend time with aren't particularly bright, but even they are finally realizing that they can compare notes with one another. I overheard a couple of them talking the other day, and they're starting to get suspicious that, while Riku keeps saying he has other engagements, no one can actually confirm him attending a party or accepting a personal invitation since September. I'm sure the rumor Kadaj and I spread about him having a crush on me helped it out, but it would have blown up anyway. A person can't go from being a slut to a saint overnight without someone eventually noticing. It doesn't happen without a reason, either." She paused, then added with obvious meaning, "Sora."

"So what if he changed?" Roxas accused before Sora's shaken mind could rein in enough self-control to form a thought. "He still lied."

"Everyone lies," Kairi responded without pause. "You can't be human and not lie at some point in your life."

"Sora and I haven't."

"Sure you have. Have you ever told anyone you were fine when you weren't? Said there was nothing on your mind when there really was?"

"That's not the same thing."

"It's not the truth, is it? Especially the second one. It's evasion, not saying what you really feel because you don't want to talk about it. Protecting either the other person or yourself."

"It's not the same thing as willfully withholding information that the other person has a right to know."

"That's true, but he didn't do it as a malicious attempt to hurt Sora. He did it out of fear for himself. It was a mistake, and he's sorry for it. He's sorry for it, and he's suffering for it. He deserves to at least be considered for forgiveness."

Slowly, Sora lifted his head from Roxas's shoulder. Something had crept into his awareness as the argument had flown back and forth over his head. Both Kairi's and Roxas's words sounded too clean and smooth for a regular conversation. Neither one needed to pause to think; neither one stumbled or searched for a single word. The entire thing sounded _rehearsed_. Suddenly he remembered that Roxas had gone out by himself over the weekend and had been gone for over an hour.

"You two …" he said quietly, his voice low from shocked understanding. "You planned this whole thing. It's been scripted."

Kairi shrugged lightly, seemingly unconcerned that she had been found out. She smiled and asked, "So what if it was?"

"It doesn't make what we're saying any less true," Roxas added with another squeeze of his fingers.

Something deep down in Sora's heart wanted to rise up in anger at this, what some might consider to be a betrayal, but most of him was too tired to care. So instead of yelling at Roxas for fraternizing with the enemy, he merely sank down farther into his seat and sighed. Kairi shifted her position so that she could lean her head on his, but apart from that, his two companions neither said nor did anything else. He supposed they were giving him the opportunity to think about what they had said.

During all this time, Sora had held the red-tinted glasses that Marluxia had given him in the hand not kept captive by Roxas. As the silence stretched over the three of them, he played idly with the frame, opening and closing the arms, and tilting the lenses this way and that to see how they would look in the light. Rather than contemplate what his brother and his friend had said, he found himself thinking once again of what it would be like to live in a world of nothing but pink, a world of nothing but sunshine and rainbows and cute, fluffy bunnies. What was so wrong with wanting a happiness like that?

Gently, Sora lifted the glasses and slipped them over his eyes. The effect was instantaneous. A world of red, differing shades of it here and there, but still the same overall color. Maybe it was because the tint was darker than it should have been, but it was not, in Sora's opinion, particularly pretty. In fact, he realized as he allowed his gaze to travel around the room, it was downright ugly. And it wasn't the particular color that made the world suddenly unpleasant to look at. It was the fact that everything suddenly looked so flat when it was only one color. There was no contrast, no detail, no life.

Almost on their own, his eyes found and fixed on Riku as the older boy stood on the stage, listening to Larxene give him feedback from his performance. In a rose-colored world where all was perfect, his love should have been beautiful and utterly flawless. Instead, he looked rather hideous with red-orange hair flowing around his red-skinned face. Sora bit his lip and took it all in. Logically, he knew that the glasses metaphor was just that, a _metaphor_ , and it shouldn't be taken literally like this. But he couldn't seem to shake the feeling that he had stumbled upon his answer without wanting to.

A rose-colored world had no separations, no lies, no betrayal, no sadness. But it also had no reunions, no penitence, no forgiveness, and no comfort. It was flat. Lifeless. The real world was so much more beautiful because, even though it had pain, it also had true joy. It had depth. It had life.

Slowly, Sora removed the glasses from his face and, feeling suddenly exhausted, sank back into his chair and closed his eyes.


	39. Leon

_He is mostly asleep, blissfully hovering between consciousnesses, when the phone rings. Though the irritating sound threatens to intrude upon his peace, his mind is able to push it aside, pretending that it is only a part of an upcoming dream. But then the warmth in his arms moves, and he is unwillingly dragged into mental clarity._

_"Don't get that," he orders as the body he holds struggles to free itself._

_"Have to," his boyfriend's sleepy voice responds. "Could be my mom."_

_He growls and tightens his grip. "So what?"_

_"So," Cloud sighs in answer, "if I don't get it, she'll worry. And believe me, no one worries like my mom." He resumes his struggles and orders, "Let go."_

_He growls a second time but relents and releases his hold. As Cloud slips off of the small bed that was built to hold only one, not two, he pulls the blanket up over his head and curses all mothers who don't understand the sanctity of an afternoon nap._

_The ringing stops abruptly, and Cloud's voice filters through warm cotton to his ears. "Hello? … Oh, hey, Tifa. I wasn't expecting it to be you. … Hmm? … No, I was just taking a nap, that's all. … No, that's okay. I'm awake now. So what's up? … No, I haven't, not for a while now. Why? … …_ **_What?_** _"_

_His half-hearted cursings of friends who don't respect the afternoon nap and boyfriends who answer phones instead of staying where they belong end abruptly at the shocked tone in Cloud's voice. He throws the blanket off of his head and sits up in sudden worry. Cloud is gripping the phone tightly, surprise and mild horror painting his face._

_"When did this happen?" he demands of the person on the other end. "Did he say why? … Geez. How is she taking it? … Yeah. … Yeah, I would, too. … What? … I don't know. I mean, I guess I could take the train, but I don't really have the money to - … Seriously? … Well, yeah, but look, you really don't have to - … Yeah. … Yeah, okay. … Okay. Thanks, Tifa. I'll see you then. … Bye."_

_"What happened?" he asks, concerned, as Cloud replaces the receiver. "Is everything okay?"_

_His boyfriend sighs and scratches at his head, ruffling the blond locks and making them stick up at funny angles. "Yeah," he answers distractedly. "I mean, no not_ **_everything_** _, but no one's died or anything. It's just that a friend of mine just broke up with another friend, and it's kind of shocking to those who knew them." He stands and makes his way to the bed, sliding underneath the blanket to his proper place once he reaches it._

_"Oh," he says, not knowing how else to respond. Cloud's hands push at his chest, and he obediently lies back down, on his back this time rather than his side. His boyfriend settles against him, a blond head tucked into his neck against his shoulder and one arm draped loosely across his chest. The position surprises him; Cloud almost never consents to being held like this._

_"I'm going to go home this weekend," soft lips inform his collarbone. "Tifa insisted."_

_"Okay." He closes his eyes and encircles the warm body beside him with his arms. Gently, he asks, "You still want to sleep after all that?"_

_"Yeah," Cloud answers. "I may not actually fall asleep, but I want to stay here for a while. You sleep. I'll be fine."_

_"Okay," he says again, feeling his previous tiredness creeping back toward him. "Just stay where you are this time. Don't leave again."_

_The arm across his chest tightens briefly in a half-hug. "Don't worry," Cloud whisper-chuckles to the skin above his heart. "I won't."_

xXx

Leon sipped at his water and let his mind wander as he waited for Cloud to arrive at the restaurant. This would be their second lunch date, the first having gone so well, and secretly Leon hoped it would become a regular occurrence. Cloud had warned that his erratic schedule would never allow him to commit to a day and time, but as long as he got to see the blond once every week or two, Leon could deal with that. If he needed a break and a comforting face in the interim, he could always call up Zell or Irvine.

As luck would have it, today was one of those days where he really could use an hour to relax and forget about his life although, interestingly enough, it wasn't because of his experiences at the store. No, it was his personal life that was stressing him out at the moment. Specifically, he was worried sick about Demyx. He had opened the door on Friday night to find Axel standing there, doing his best to prop up a half-hysterical blond. The red-head had shared as much information as he himself knew and then left. Leon was as much at a loss as the younger man as to what to do now.

Thankfully, Demyx had mostly pulled himself together on his own. It was obvious to anyone who knew him that the musician was unhappy, but there was little that anyone could do at the moment. Still, the situation worried Leon, and it frustrated him to be so useless. He had felt the same way when Riku had come in over the weekend looking for Yuffie. His cousin had been as polished and perfect as he ever was, but his face had looked terrible. The fake smile had been barely there, and his eyes had been dull and dark like the boy hadn't been sleeping. A month ago, Leon wouldn't have given a shit as to why the brat looked so miserable, but knowing now as he did that Riku had changed and that it was Cloud's son who had both changed him and destroyed him, the older man couldn't help but feel sympathetic and concerned for his young cousin.

As absorbing as these worried thoughts about his roommate and his cousin were, they all fled from his mind when the door to the restaurant opened and a familiar head of blond spikes passed through. Those blue eyes found him almost immediately, and a smile spread over that beautiful face. Leon found himself smiling back without realizing it.

As much as he might want to deny it, the grouchy bookstore owner had to admit that the quiet structural engineer was steadily obtaining his forgiveness. It actually surprised him how quickly it was happening. He had thought that it would take months to forgive Cloud, maybe even years, but every time they met, Leon walked away feeling a little more whole, a little more at peace. Cloud wasn't even really doing anything. He was just being himself, being honest and sincere, and holding on and pushing back every time Leon pushed. He still had misgivings about formally committing himself to Cloud, and something within him still balked at the word "boyfriend", yet it was slowly becoming apparent to Leon that his heart was at as much risk now as it was six years ago.

"Hey," the object of his thoughts said as he slid into the other seat of their two-person table. "Been waiting long?"

"Only about five minutes," Leon answered.

"All right. Good." Cloud looked at his menu briefly before laying it aside to focus his attention on the man across from him. Folding his hands together on the table and interlacing his fingers, he put a serious expression on his face and declared, "I have to talk to you about wedding business today, my fellow groomsman."

Leon lifted an eyebrow in interest. He had been looking forward to a casual conversation about nothing in particular, but this new side of Cloud was interesting. Idly, he wondered if this was how the blond looked when he ordered his underlings around. It was oddly alluring. "Really?" he asked, lifting his drink to his lips. "Yuffie wants us to get our plans going this far in advance?"

"It's less in advance than you might think," Cloud informed him with a frown of mild frustration. "She's booked the thing for the end of March."

The water in his mouth very nearly came back out in an undignified spit-take, but Leon managed to keep it in and swallow it down. Placing the glass back down on the table with more force than he would have normally, he demanded of the other, "Are you serious? How the hell did she manage that? They only got engaged two months ago. Don't churches and caterers book their weddings a year ahead of time?"

A little smirk had settled onto Cloud's face at Leon's reaction, but he wiped it off quickly and returned to his business-like expression. "Yeah," he replied, "but apparently it helps to have contacts like your cousins. She talked to Yazoo who talked to one of your uncle's friends, and he's letting her use this fancy hotel that he owns for both the ceremony and the reception and the only catch is that he and a guest get to attend. A friend of her father's who's a military chaplain is going to officiate. The whole thing is set. The invitations are ready to go out."

Stunned and more than a little impressed, Leon just shook his head. He knew Yuffie could be dangerous once she set her mind to something, but never would he have suspected she could put together an entire wedding in three months. At that moment, their waitress arrived, so further conversation was abandoned in favor of ordering food. Once she had left, however, Leon turned to Cloud with a new question.

"Doesn't Vincent start his new job in early March? How is that going to work?"

Cloud's answer was immediate, indicating that he had thought of the same thing and already tracked down the answer. "Actually, he managed to get them to push the start date back a couple of weeks. Now the plan is Vincent goes out to secure them an apartment while Yuffie finishes up wedding stuff here, he flies back in time to get married, and then the next day they both fly out to start their new life together." His professional demeanor dropped for a second as he looked down at the table and sighed. Slowly, he shook his head as if to say that both of his friends were completely insane, a sentiment that Leon whole-heartedly shared. "Anyway," Cloud finished, lifting his gaze again, "the upshot of all this is that we have to get started on our planning now."

"I see," Leon sighed, resisting the urge to massage his forehead. His mind took a moment to try to make what it knew of Vincent and what it knew of bachelor parties coincide. It didn't have much success. A different idea occurred to him, though, and smirking, he asked, "Is the point of this for Vincent to enjoy it, or is it to make him as embarrassed as possible?"

His lunch partner sent him a nearly identical smirk, almost as if knew what Leon was thinking. "What did you have in mind?" he asked back.

"Oh, I was just wondering if Yuffie would kill us if we got him a lap dance."

The serious facade that Cloud had put up broke down completely as he dissolved into laughter. It took the blond a moment to compose himself, the image of his best friend with a stripper in his lap clearly undoing him, but when he had, he looked up at Leon with a smile so bright that it took the brunet's breath away. "She might not if we promised to take pictures of his reaction," he grinned, eyes twinkling. " _He_ , however, most certainly would. … Thank you," he added to the waitress who had just arrived with his drink.

Leon swallowed. Looking at Cloud's face in that moment - so beautiful, so happy - had been like stepping back in time. In an instant, he had been his younger self again, sharing a moment with his boyfriend in between the responsibilities of classwork and the far more important task of figuring out just what the hell he wanted to do with his life. But as thrilling and sweet as that moment had been, it had also brought with it a fresh wave of pain and distrust. Leon tried to fight it, but he couldn't help himself. He loved Cloud, he loved Cloud desperately, but he was so very scared of being hurt again.

"Man, that is so tempting," Cloud snickered into his glass, completely unaware of the conflicting feelings that had blown through the man before him. "He'd hate me for a long time if I did it, though, so I'd better not."

Quickly, Leon stamped down the emotions that had gripped him and put on an obviously fake expression of disappointment to hide those that remained. "So, no strippers?"

Cloud laughed again. "No strippers," he confirmed. "And what is that face for? You wouldn't get any enjoyment out of it anyway seeing as they'd be female strippers."

"Just because I don't date girls doesn't mean I can't appreciate the beauty of their bodies."

"Artistic appreciation isn't really the point of a strip-tease, you know."

"Well, if you're that worried about it, you could always find a place that provides both sexes."

"Leon …"

"After all, we don't know the preferences of all of the guests, do we? We could be offending someone by not providing multiple options."

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'm being considerate."

"I am not having this conversation with you."

Leon grinned, and Cloud grinned back. It felt so good to at least have their friendship back the way it had once been. The romantic aspects of their relationship still had problems to be ironed out, but their camaraderie had been restored in only a few lunch meetings and phone calls. As long as they weren't trying to flirt or talk about anything intimate, they could do it without any awkwardness. It was such a great relief, such an unexpected comfort, for Leon to have that connection back in his life. Having it made him feel like getting the rest back wouldn't be so hard after all.

For the remainder of the meal, Leon and Cloud discussed their few but important duties in regards to Yuffie's wedding. They both agreed that it was most definitely her wedding, not hers and Vincent's. She was doing all the work and making all the decisions while he had decided to step back, let her have her way, and just provide the money. Had it been any other couple, Leon would have been disappointed in the groom for taking the lazy way out, but considering the man was marrying Yuffie, Leon rather agreed with Cloud when the blond called it "an act of self-defense more than anything else." Therefore, when Cloud handed over the business card of the tuxedo rental store that Yuffie had picked, pointing out the numbers on the back that would tell the sales associate the exact style of the tuxedo she had picked, Leon just nodded and pocketed the card without a word.

They had a brief discussion about the guest list, a copy of which Cloud had brought with him, and then moved on to talk about the problem of a bachelor party in depth. It was quite frustrating, for both of them, that their friend was such a stick in the mud. The man rarely drank, didn't like the bar or club scenes, didn't dance, considered karaoke machines to be implements of the Devil, didn't golf - a brilliant idea, Leon had thought - and was just generally all-around boring. More than once Leon posed the question as to why he was marrying _Yuffie_ , to which Cloud had no real answer.

"Because he loves her," he had offered once.

"But _why?_ " Leon had insisted in a fit of frustration.

"Because she's good in bed?"

"I did not need to know that."

"Shouldn't have asked then."

Eventually, they both admitted that they had nothing and were unlikely to come up with anything anytime soon. Only when Cloud mentioned that Vincent would probably prefer not to have a party at all did Leon finally have a moment of inspiration.

"Yuffie's maid of honor is from out of town, right?"

"Mmm-hmm," Cloud replied, picking at the remains of his sandwich.

"So who's organizing the bridal shower?"

Blue eyes blinked at him for a moment before the other's hesitant answer came. "Demyx, I think. I'm pretty sure Vincent told me Yuffie had said he volunteered."

"That's what I was afraid of," Leon half-groaned as he reached for the check. Before his fingers closed around it, however, it was stolen away by another, quicker hand. "Hey!" he protested as Cloud began to dig out his wallet. "I said I'd pay. I'm the one who asked you."

"Yes, but I turned our date into a business meeting," his companion replied, pulling his credit card from its slot. "It's only fair that I should pay." He snapped his wallet shut again, but not before Leon had caught a glimpse of a photograph he didn't recognize. It had looked like a woman, from the little he could see, and a pretty one at that. "Why were you afraid that Demyx was going to be organizing the bridal shower?" Cloud asked, drawing Leon's attention away from both the picture and the little swell of jealousy within him. "Is he a bad choice for it?"

"No," Leon answered, frowning a bit as the waitress took the check and the wrong credit card away. "As far as I know, he's a fine choice. It's just that he's going through a tough time right now, and I'm not sure he'll be able to handle everything on his own. Maybe," he continued, offering up his idea before he had fully thought it through, "instead of giving Vincent a bachelor party, we can help Demyx organize the bridal shower. We won't attend, of course, but we can help him set things up, make phone calls, buy stuff. Just to make it easier on him, and so he doesn't have to do the whole thing alone."

"That's not a bad idea," Cloud returned. He stirred the ice in his glass idly with his straw. After a moment of further thought, he said, "Let me talk to Vince and see if he's all right with it. He probably will be, but there's always that small chance he's secretly hoping we'll drag his ass out on the town and force him to have fun." When Leon snorted to indicate just how much he thought that was a possibility, Cloud grinned and replied, "I know, but I should ask all the same."

They fell into a companionable silence that lasted until the waitress returned with Cloud's card and the slips he needed to sign. After a brief fight over who would get to tip - "Leon, you are more than welcome to leave cash on the table, but I've already put extra on this thing and I am not going to undo it." - the blond pulled his wallet out again to replace his card. As the picture flashed through his sight again, Leon reached out a hand, almost without realizing it, and took the other man by the wrist. Blue eyes looked up at him in surprise and confusion.

"That … that photograph," Leon said quietly, finding his mouth suddenly dry. "Is that … your wife?"

Cloud just stared at him for a heartbeat before replying, just as quietly, "Yes."

Leon swallowed, his eyes fixed on the tiny square of color that he could just barely see from this angle. He didn't know why he was doing this, but somewhere in his heart, he knew that he had to. "I … I don't know what she looks like. I've never seen her."

Neither man moved for what felt like a full minute. Then, carefully, Cloud extracted his wrist from Leon's grip and, with obvious hesitation in his eyes, pulled the picture from its plastic sheath. He gazed at it himself for a brief moment, then offered it to the man across from him. Gently, Leon took the picture from his hand and cradled it in his own.

The woman who smiled up at him was indeed very pretty. She had been caught in the act of pruning some flowers, and kind green eyes gazed at the photographer with surprised gentleness. Her long brown hair was pulled into a loose braid, tied off with pink ribbons at the top and bottom. She seemed petite and mildly fragile, yet resilient and strong at the same time. Rather like the flowers she held in her hands.

Cloud was watching him, waiting for his reaction. Slowly, Leon lifted his eyes and met that gaze. His chest felt tight and rather strange, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as he thought it would. "She's lovely," he said simply

"Yes," Cloud replied, his eyes never leaving Leon's face. "She was."

"She seems like … she was … a lovely person."

"Yes," the answer came again, this time in a softer tone. "She was."

"Tell me about her."

Cloud's eyes widened dramatically in what looked to be a mixture of fear and shock. "W-what?"

"Tell me about her," Leon repeated. He put the photograph aside and reached for the other's wrist again.

Cloud immediately pulled both of his arms back and hid his hands in his lap. His eyes darted around frantically as he said, "It's getting late. I should get back to the office."

Leon frowned at the blond's evasion. He understood why Cloud was nervous to talk about the woman he had chosen over him, but for some reason Leon really wanted to know more about her. He had spent far too much time hating her without even knowing her name.

"Please," Leon said, and that single word stilled Cloud's anxious movements and brought stunned blue eyes to meet his own. "Please, Cloud," he repeated. "I want to know about her. You may not have loved her, but you did care for her and she was important to you. She's still important to you and to Sora and Roxas. She's their mother, and if I …" He trailed off, swallowing as his throat suddenly became thick. Fighting through it and the hesitation that suddenly gripped him and threatened to make him stop completely, he finished, "If I'm ever going to be a part of their lives, I should know about the woman who helped raise them."

For a long moment, Cloud just stared at him, stunned, but then he slowly nodded, opened his mouth, and began to talk. He didn't say much, sticking to old school memories and Aerith's love of gardening, but in the ten minutes that Cloud gave him before the blond insisted that he had to leave and flew off, Leon learned enough to satisfy him for now and make him smile as he watched the other man disappear through the restaurant's doors. Only after Cloud was long gone and Leon was gathering up his coat to leave as well did he realize that the photograph still sat on the table. Leon looked at that pretty face for a long, thoughtful moment before smiling, scooping the small square up, and placing it very carefully into his front coat pocket. Then, he turned and left the restaurant to head back to the bookstore.

xXx

It was Roxas who opened the door that evening when Leon dropped by after work. The small blond looked extremely surprised to see him, but his expression quickly turned into a mostly friendly smile.

"Yes?" he asked with a hint of expectation. "What can I do for you?"

"Is your father home?" Leon asked back. He was a little nervous since he didn't know the twins that well yet, but at least they were openly supportive about him and Cloud dating. A little too supportive sometimes, as that one conversation with Sora had proved. He rather hoped, as he looked at Roxas's slightly devious grin, that he wasn't about to get sex advice again.

"He is," Roxas answered, "but he's not exactly up for visitors at the moment. Can I ask why you wanted to see him?"

Carefully, he extracted the photograph from his coat pocket and showed it to the boy in front of him. "I just wanted to return this," he explained. "If he's not available, I can give it to you as long as you promise me he'll get it."

Roxas stared at the picture of his mother with suddenly guarded eyes. After a moment, those eyes raised to Leon's face, and he asked, "Why do you have that?"

"Your dad and I had lunch today. I asked to see the picture, and we talked about your mom a bit. When he left, though, he forgot it, so I brought it back."

"You talked about Mom?" Roxas asked with eyes so unreadable that they almost seemed made of blue crystal.

"Yes."

The boy moved, and for one terrible second, Leon thought he was about to have the door slammed in his face. But instead, the wood opened wide and Roxas stepped back.

"Come on in," he said.

Warily, Leon did as he was told and followed the blond boy further into the house. As he passed the dining room, he caught a quick glimpse of Sora at the table, surrounded by homework and dinner dishes. Roxas's destination, however, was on the other side of the hall, and he quietly led Leon into the living room where a familiar figure lay stretched out on the sofa, covered by dog from the knees down.

"You can wake him if you have to," Roxas said quietly before he disappeared. "He won't mind."

Left alone in the entrance-way, Leon simply stood there for what seemed like several minutes. It had been so long, so many years, since he had last seen Cloud's sleeping face. He had forgotten how innocent he looked, how much like a child. Without the stresses and worries that normally haunted his eyes and lined his forehead, Cloud looked barely older than the boy who had opened the door. The comparison made Leon smile, and he knew that, even though he had Roxas's permission, he would never be able to bring himself to wake the other man.

Carefully, so as not to make any noise, Leon crossed the room and gently lay the photograph down on the end table next to Cloud's head. Destiny lifted her head at his approach and thumped her tail a few times, but she made no move to relinquish her spot on her master's legs. Lured in by her friendly gaze, Leon walked around to the other end of the couch so that he could scratch her ears for a moment. The dog expressed her contentment with a few more thumps, then laid her head back down and continued to doze.

He wasn't sure whether it was the quiet of the room, the sleepy comfort of the atmosphere, or simply his own attraction to the man before him, but Leon soon found himself sinking to his knees on the floor, almost without realizing he was doing it. Still idly scratching Destiny behind the ears, he rested his head against her soft flank and gazed at Cloud as the other continued to sleep on, unknowing. The blond truly was beautiful, possessing an even mix of feminine and masculine features that proclaimed his strength while still making him a sight to behold. It made the brunet feel dull and common in comparison even as it sparked his desire to possess, protect, and cherish the treasure that lay before him. If only he could get his heart to heal that last little bit, he would gather Cloud into his arms and never let him go again.

Time passed without his knowledge, and it's possible he would have sat there all night if a young voice hadn't roused him with a single word:

"Why?"

Surprised, Leon shifted his gaze to find Sora standing in the entrance-way. The boy was holding onto the frame with both hands, half-peeking around it like a small child, and gazing in at him with serious, unblinking blue eyes.

"Why what?" Leon asked him in a tone just as hushed as the boy's had been.

"Why won't you forgive him?" Sora clarified, his eyes shifting to his father's form with a pain in them so raw that Leon could feel it himself. "He loves you so much," the brunet boy whispered, "and I know you love him back. So why?" The eyes returned to him and stared him down without mercy.

Leon swallowed hard but did not flinch from the challenge staring him in the face. Rather than answer Sora's question, he asked one of his own, one that he knew the boy was most certainly not expecting. "Why won't you forgive my cousin?"

Sora cringed and looked for a moment like he might flee back the way he had come. However, he stood his ground and, with a white-knuckled grip on the doorframe, accused, "What do you care? You don't like Riku."

"That's true," Leon admitted. "I don't. But I grew up with him. I had to babysit the little brat and Kadaj as well. They were both unholy terrors." He lifted an eyebrow and demanded, "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get peanut butter out of your hair?"

The little smile that stole over Sora's face made him smile as well. He wasn't entirely sure why he was doing this. He could have easily just refused to answer Sora's question or given him a small speech on trust and how it takes time for it to be rebuilt. Yet for some reason, the moment Sora had fixed his eyes on him, Leon had seen Cloud's face instead, those blue eyes filled with sadness as he revealed that he sympathized with Riku. Their situations were not the same, but they were similar enough to convince Leon not to let this opportunity simply pass by.

His eyes watched Sora carefully as he continued, "I get along with my cousins about as well as their father gets along with mine, which is to say not at all. However, lately I've been hearing about this new boy who's taken over the place where my cousin used to be. This boy, so they say, is kind and considerate. He's able to put someone else before himself. He's not arrogant and he knows what it feels like to be insecure. And right now, he's in pain. Terrible pain." He paused briefly, watching the conflicting emotions wash over the younger brunet's face. Sora was no longer looking at him, but Leon could easily see how much his words were affecting him. Gently and in a quieter tone, he finished, "This boy is nothing like the Riku I grew up with. A boy like that, I could care about."

A long pause filled up the room with heavy silence. Leon kept his eyes on Sora even though the boy continued to refuse to look at him. Eventually, Sora shifted on his feet and threw a split-second glance in Leon's direction. "If I forgive Riku," he asked hesitantly, "will you forgive Dad?"

Leon sighed, bemused by the innocence of such a request. In answer, he asked, "Is that really forgiveness? Do you think either of them would be happy knowing that they were used as bargaining chips in a deal?"

Sora's miserable expression was answer enough. "It's not fair," he whispered to the floor as his eyes began to shine with unshed tears. "Love is supposed to be enough. That's what all those books and movies and songs and poems say. Love conquers all. You don't need anything else. Love is supposed to be everything. But it's not." Those blue eyes finally lifted and turned to him, and Leon suddenly felt the assault of their piercing gaze as all the confusion and turmoil in Sora's teenage heart was turned on him full-force. "Love isn't enough, is it? It doesn't matter how much you love each other. It's not enough to be together. It's not enough to be happy. Is it?"

"No," Leon replied, unable to lie to that face even if he had wanted to, "it's not." As the tears finally began to escape Sora's eyes and glide down his cheeks, Leon shifted his gaze to the source of his own heartache. Cloud was still sleeping peacefully, undisturbed by pain-filled whispers. Something in the innocence of the blond's expression made Leon's heart swell within his chest, and he found himself speaking again, not really knowing himself just what he was saying. "Love isn't enough, but it's something. It doesn't conquer, but it gives you the strength to fight. If I …" He reached out a hand to touch Cloud's but pulled it back for fear of waking the other man. "If I didn't love your father, I wouldn't be trying so hard to forgive him. If I didn't love him, I would have just walked away. But because I know, in my heart, that I love him and he loves me, I'm willing to keep fighting, to work towards that point where I can again put my heart in his hands and not be afraid."

He returned his gaze to Sora and found the boy staring back at him, cheeks wet but eyes wide and mostly dry. "Love isn't enough to move forward," Leon told him, "but it's enough to keep you from falling backwards. It's a rock for you to stand on while you work towards building something more. That's what I think, at least."

Sora bit his lip, his eyes falling to the floor once more. A few stray tears slipped down his face, but he raised a hand to scrub them away absently. Leon could tell that the younger brunet was thinking about what he had said. "Thanks," he eventually said after a long silence. Leon just smiled at him in response, and a moment later, the boy disappeared around the corner, his soft footsteps signaling his retreat down the hall.

Leon was about to rise to his feet and follow Sora's example when a quiet chuckling stopped him. His attention returned to the couch just in time to watch eyelids smoothly lift to reveal a pair of alert blue eyes. Cloud smirked at him and commented, "I'm impressed. I think you just did more for him in five minutes than I did in an entire week."

Leon returned the expression with a smirk of his own and resettled back onto his heels. "How long have you been awake?" he accused.

"Since you mentioned your bad babysitting memories." He chuckled again at Leon's pained groan, but then turned serious. "Thank you, Leon," he said earnestly. "As his father but more as someone who loves him, thank you."

Leon shrugged. "You sympathize with my cousin," he replied simply. "I sympathize with your son."

Cloud hummed in acknowledgement before asking, "Why are you here anyway?"

The question brought back Leon's smirk with a vengeance. "You left your wife in the restaurant," he informed the other. Cloud's eyes widened in guilty surprise, making him laugh.

"I did? Oops." Leon laughed again, bringing a smile to the blond's face. "Thanks for bringing her back."

"Not a problem. I should probably get going though."

Blue eyes lowered to the other end of the couch, and Cloud's face creased into a frown. "I'd show you to the door," he remarked, "except that I can't feel my legs." Somehow knowing that the comment was directed at her, Destiny chose that moment to lift her head and gaze at her master, thumping her tail a few times for good measure. "Yes, I'm talking about you," Cloud half-growled at her. "I don't remember giving you permission to be on the couch much less on _me_."

"Let the lady show her love for you, Cloud," Leon teased, smirking when the other man just groaned and rolled his eyes. He moved once again to stand up, but this time he was stopped by a hand on his wrist. Surprised, he looked down to find a myriad of emotions staring back up at him. Those eyes he loved so much were teeming with questions that begged for answers, the fear of asking those questions, and the unmistakable shine of repressed hope. Although momentarily confused by the sudden change, Leon soon relaxed into a smile as he remembered that Cloud had been awake for his unplanned confession. His chest tightened with the usual anxiety, but for the first time, there was something soft and comforting within it as well.

Gently, Leon leaned down and brushed his lips over Cloud's. With his eyes closed and his lips still hovering over the other's mouth, he inhaled softly and whispered, "I love you." Cloud's shuddering exhalation caressed his face and the fingers around his wrist tightened, making him smile. Feeling a strange mix of terror and satisfaction wash over him, Leon sat back a little and used his free hand to brush Cloud's bangs back out of his eyes. "Go back to sleep," he ordered softly.

Cloud opened his eyes and fixed him with disbelieving blue. "There is no way I'm going to be able to sleep after that," he declared, a smile trying to pull up the corners of his mouth.

"Try. Or at least pretend to until I leave."

For a moment, Cloud just looked at him, but then his eyes closed and his head tilted slightly on the pillow as his neck relaxed. His lips were still fighting that determined smile, indicating that he was still wide awake, but Leon decided not to call him on it. Leaning in again, he placed a final kiss on the other man's forehead and then stood, his wrist easily slipping out of slackened fingers. After indulging in a few more silent heartbeats to fix that angelic face firmly in his mind, Leon turned away and quietly left the room, feeling more at peace than he had in years.


	40. Axel

_He is sitting comfortably on his bed, happily killing zombies, when the door to his room bursts open and his brother strides in._

_"There you are, my precious little bro!" the older red-head cries with obvious melodrama. He throws his arms wide and grins. "Let's bond!"_

_"Go away, Reno," he replies, not bothering to look up from reloading his shotgun. He has absolutely no interest in spending time with his brother, and he certainly does not want to_ **_bond_ ** _with the idiot. He has far more important things to do, like kill zombies._

_In spite of the world's imminent destruction at the hands of the undead, Reno flops heavily onto the mattress beside him, making the bed dip and bounce. One of the teenager's skinny arms slips around his own bony shoulders and squeezes in an annoyingly friendly fashion. "Don't be like that, Axie," his brother whines in his ear._

_He grimaces at the hated nickname but chooses not to rise to that particular bait. Instead, he plays a familiar card by saying, "Go away or I'll call Mom."_

_"Mom went to the store," Reno replies with a wide, toothy grin, and internally he groans, his best ammunition taken away. "And since she left me in charge," the older boy continues, making a bad situation worse, "I've decided to spend some time with my sweet baby brother and impart some of my hard-earned worldly wisdom to him as proof of our fraternal love."_

_A loud snort causes both boys to look up. Reno's best friend Rude is standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. The boy is wearing his sunglasses in the house again which, combined with his military-style crew-cut, makes him look like a member of the Secret Service. "I don't know which part of that statement is more ridiculous," he comments in his deep voice. "The fraternal love bit or the implication that you have any wisdom worth imparting."_

_"Shut up," Reno snaps in reply, then returns his attention to his victim. "To be more specific, my little Axel, I am here to tell you all about girls."_

_"Girls are gross," he immediately states with all the conviction of his combined eight years._

_"You may think so now," his brother replies, undeterred, "but someday soon, you will start to notice a change. Soon those silly giggly geese will mature into something worthy of your valuable time. They will develop_ **_breasts_** _, my dear brother, which, I must say, are proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy."_

_"Isn't that supposed to be beer, Mr. Franklin?"_

_"Shut_ **_up!_ ** _Now, Axel, the first thing you need to know about girls is that, even though each one is unique in what will or will not get her to go out with you, all girls love it when you listen to them. Even shy girls or girls who don't like to talk much will go all gooey on you when you say, 'Tell me about your day,' or 'Is anything bothering you?' and then actually listen to what they say back. It's not easy - believe me, I know - but it's the first step in getting them to trust you and feel comfortable with you, which is extremely important if you're going to get in their pants."_

_"Ew," he comments and tries to shove Reno off of him. He has heard about sex from his mother and wants absolutely no part in it. Unfortunately, Reno has firmly latched onto him and easily resists all attempts to shake him off._

_"The other truth about girls that you need to remember is that all girls love being protected. Oh, lots of them like to think that they can take care of themselves, and a few of them actually can, but whether they admit it or not, they're all secretly wishing for a prince to come riding in on a white horse to take them away. If you can somehow manage to be that prince, it's a guaranteed ticket to heaven, little bro. Guaranteed."_

_"You know, Reno," Rude interjects from the doorway, "I always knew you were a shallow prick, but I really had no idea just how much before now."_

_The arm that holds him tightens painfully and fingernails dig into his shoulder as his brother turns on his best friend in anger. "_ ** _What_ ** _did you just say?"_

_"You heard me," Rude replies, unafraid. He shakes his head and pushes his slipping sunglasses back up his nose. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you're trying to turn Axel into a chauvinist pig as well, but it is rather disappointing."_

_That, apparently, does it. Reno is on his feet and in Rude's face in a matter of seconds. "If you have a problem with me," he hisses to the other teenager, "we can discuss it outside."_

_"If I had a problem with you, I wouldn't hang out with you, but whatever." The taller boy shrugs and steps back into the hall, the red-head following with visible anger still boiling from him._

_Before their footsteps reach the stairs to go down to the ground floor, he has shut off his game and is bounding off the bed to run after them. Killing zombies is important, but watching a fight is better, especially if his brother is involved. Reno may be a stupid idiot when it comes to seeing how gross girls are, but he's a genius when it comes to fist fights. Now, if his brother wanted to teach him about_ **_that_** _, that's a lesson he would listen to gladly._

xXx

In the short amount of time that he had been "working" as a comedian/magician, Axel had designed and assembled quite a few contraptions to work as props in his act. Some of them he was quite proud of, like the miniature flamethrower that he attached to his palm to make it look like he had turned his thumb into a lighter. Yet none of them, he decided as he tightened the last screw and pulled the cloth covering over the exposed metal, were quite as strange as the one he had just finished.

"Awesome!" Zidane crowed down at him from over his shoulder as Axel sat back on his heels and wiped fake sweat from his brow. "And it's really going to work?"

"No, Zidane," Axel replied, rolling his eyes at the blond actor, "I just spent half an hour attaching wires to your ass for shits and giggles. Of course it's going to work. Here." He handed the small remote to the other man and suppressed a grin at his whoop of delight.

"Oh man, this is _so cool!_ " He pressed a button on the remote, and immediately the long, thin tail attached to the trousers of his costume began twitching lazily, up and down. "It _does_ work!" he laughed, earning a half-hearted punch in the leg from Axel. "I gotta go show Blank!"

"Show me what?" a bored voice asked from the doorway. Both men looked up to find the actor in question standing in the opening, holding part of his own costume for the next children's production. Axel swallowed down a snigger at the sight of the unfortunate red-head's costume. Blank had been cast as a bird in their production of Aesop fables, and Lowell had gone a bit crazy with the feathers.

Zidane bounded over to his best friend, every bit the monkey he had been cast to play. "Axel made me a tail!" he announced, showing off his rear and the mechanized tail that had been sewn onto it. "It can wave like this, go completely rigid when I'm supposed to be surprised or frightened, and even just sit at rest with only the tip twitching every so often. It's totally cool!"

"I see," Blank replied with a smirk. He ruffled his friend's hair and commented, "I always knew you were a bit less evolved than the rest of us, Zidane."

Axel laughed at the joke and the expression on Zidane's face, but quickly retreated to his desk when the two began to swipe at each other. The play fight rapidly became a more intricate display of fake swordplay, each actor grabbing one of Axel's tools off of the floor where he had left them and clanging them together like real blades. They danced about his office, avoiding furniture with ease and occasionally exchanging bits of dialogue from plays they had done together. Axel just rested his feet on his desk and watched. Working with actors, he decided, was fricking awesome, although he wished he had some popcorn.

The impromptu show ended abruptly at the entrance of a third actor, this one stockier and more rugged than his friends and dressed in a traditional hero costume complete with sash and high boots. "Hey," he called, startling Blank and Zidane out of their mock-duel, "what in blazes are you two doing in here?"

The two combatants looked at each other briefly before simultaneously hiding their "weapons" behind their backs like guilty children. Zidane grinned at the newcomer and said, "Um, keeping Firebird company?" When Axel snorted as if to disagree, the blond actor stuck his tongue out at him briefly. A moment later, his sour expression turned to excitement again, and he leapt forward a few feet. "Marcus! You have to see my new tail!"

"Huh," Marcus grunted as Zidane showed off his mechanical appendage with ass-shaking pride. The lead actor's gaze lifted to Axel, and he nodded once. "Nice work, Firebird."

"Thanks," Axel smiled, more flattered by the one sentence from the quiet Marcus than pages of praise from Zidane.

The man nodded again, then hiked a thumb over his shoulder towards the lobby. "Demyx is here to see you."

Instantly, Axel was on his feet. The merest mention of his friend's name sent him into a worried frenzy these days, and it had only worsened as the week went on. Originally, Axel had been relieved to find that Demyx had recovered fairly well from that disastrous Friday night, but days passed and the blond's apologetic letters remained unanswered. Last night at Luxord's, Demyx had actually _refused_ to get up on stage and sing, something he had never done the entire time Axel had known him. Everything was rapidly going straight to hell, and Axel didn't know what to do other than curse himself for doing what he had been told and staying in that adjoining room with the door shut. If he had only given in to his curiosity and taken a peek, or opened his door a crack so that he could see anyone who passed by, he would have gotten at least a glimpse of this mystery man who had all but destroyed his dearest friend in all the world.

"Did he say what he wanted?" he asked Marcus even as he quickly circled his desk and began striding to the door.

"No," the other man replied. He glanced back over his shoulder towards the lobby. "He looks really upset though."

Gut clenching painfully, Axel pushed by the big actor and all but ran into the bigger room. Demyx was standing near the front doors, his hands wringing the pair of gloves that he had barely put down for a week. When puffy blue-green eyes lifted to meet his, Axel broke out into a sprint and closed the distance between them in seconds. He leaned down a bit to even out their heights and, taking his friend's shoulders in his hands, demanded, "Demyx, what's wrong? What happened?"

The blond just shook his head at him, managing a watery, "A-a-ax-ellll …" before breaking out in a mournful wail that would have made any tragic actress green with envy. Axel suddenly found himself supporting the musician's entire weight, a wet face pressed solidly into his neck as his friend cried and cried like the world had ended.

It was disconcerting to say the least, not to mention embarrassing with Marcus, Blank, and Zidane all watching from his office doorway. Still, Axel kept his cool and slowly began to ease the sobbing mass in his arms towards one of the chairs that sat near the entrance of the theater for guests to use. It was much harder than it should have been, and he quickly found himself cooing soothingly to Demyx like one would to a small child, hoping that it would at least convince the blond to move his damn feet for himself. When he finally succeeded in depositing his burden in the chair, he flopped down on the floor in front of it, extremely tired and decidedly damp around the collar.

"Let me guess," he sighed. "You finally got a letter from this Echo guy, and it wasn't positive."

Still sniffling, Demyx shook his head. "Worse," he managed to choke out eventually. "He took away the box completely."

"What? What do you mean?"

"He closed the account. The Post Office called and told me I have to give back the key." Dangerously close to tears once more, he leaned forward, clutching the gloves to his chest, and cried, "What am I going to do now, Axel?"

Axel shut his eyes and resisted the urge to bang his head against the arm of the chair. How the hell was _he_ supposed to know what to do now? "I don't know, Dem," he managed to reply in a non-accusing tone. "You said when we set this whole thing up that you'd be willing to chase him down if you needed to."

"I know I did," Demyx whimpered, "but now that it's happened, I've realized that I don't know where to start. I don't know what I'm looking for. I don't mind the time or the effort it would take to find him, but I could walk right past him and never know it. That box was the only connection I had to him, and now it's gone." Leaning back in the chair, he fisted one hand into his mouth and turned his head away as if that could hide the fact that he was about to break down yet again.

Axel was frustrated with this whole situation, and while part of him wanted to gripe and snap at the blond that he should have thought of these things beforehand, the better part knew that it would not be helpful or fair. Demyx had already been so patient and so brave. The red-head couldn't help but admire him for it. As crazy as it was to fall for someone who stalked you in secret and wouldn't let you know his name or face, Demyx had reacted to the calling of his heart better than Axel had. He had been anything but patient when he had been "pursuing" Roxas, and now that he knew his feelings weren't as innocent as he had previously claimed, he had become the worst kind of coward. He had barely spoken to the teenaged blond since his realization and had more than once gone out of his way to avoid the boy at rehearsal. Honestly, he was quite disgusted with himself, but he didn't want to admit or accept his true feelings. Not yet. Possibly not ever.

The quiet sound of someone clearing his throat announced Zidane's presence moments before the small actor knelt down beside Axel and offered up a bottle of water from the backstage fridge. "Here, Demyx," he smiled to his fellow blond. "This'll help you calm down and feel better."

The musician accepted the drink gratefully, and Zidane sat back on his heels with a grin as Blank and Marcus came up behind him, gentle concern on their faces.

"You okay, Dem?" Blank asked. "Is there anything we can do?" When Demyx shook his head at him, the actor pressed, "Are you sure? I know you're not in here that often, but we all consider you a friend and not just because you help keep Firebird in line."

Axel sent a half-hearted punch at Blank, who dodged it easily. The other red-head's comments sparked a thought, however, and he turned to his friend with a gentle expression. "Dem," he asked, "can I tell them? It might be good to get some different opinions and ideas."

Demyx swallowed the mouthful of water he had taken, lowered the bottle to his lap, and hung his head slightly as he considered it. His other hand still had those gloves in a tight grip. Axel stared at them as he waited for the other man's decision. If only they had been unique in some way. If only they had had a monogram or been very expensive or foreign or somehow had something different about them that would allow a person to trace their owner. Unfortunately, they weren't. Unfortunately, they were just a pair of black one-size-fits-all gloves, probably bought in a Wal-Mart or a Target. They were useless for anything except providing a very slight bit of comfort for the one who now held them and would not let them go.

Axel's examination of the gloves came to an end as Demyx nodded his head once in permission. Axel nodded back and, settling himself a little more comfortably on the floor, began to talk. He explained as much as he knew about what had been going on between Demyx and his secret pen pal, how the man had first contacted the blond, how the two had exchanged letters, the little that had been revealed in them, and the fateful meeting a week ago that had led to the mystery man's sudden retreat. The three actors listened carefully, one or the other occasionally interjecting with a question but otherwise remaining silent and attentive. Only when Axel had finished by revealing the reason behind Demyx's current visit did anyone speak, and it was something that the red-head was most certainly not expecting.

"Well, I don't think we can help you find out this guy's name or face, but we can certainly help you get in his head and figure out what he's thinking and that might be able to help you find him."

Axel looked up in surprise at Marcus who had made this statement. "What he's thinking?" he echoed. When the actor nodded, he asked, "Why would that help us find him?"

It was Zidane who answered that, his grin widening in excitement. "Because it'll pinpoint his personality for you. It's much easier to find a person once you know what they're like."

"But I already know what he's like," Demyx protested in confusion. "I learned all about him from his letters. He told me all about himself."

"Pfft," Zidane replied with a wave of his hand, "that's only half of the picture. Assuming he didn't make stuff up or leave stuff out, you still can't get a complete understanding of someone from just words on a page."

"If you could, we'd be out of a job," Blank commented, smirking slightly.

"Seriously," Zidane laughed. "You think anyone would want to be an actor if there was only one way to interpret a line of dialogue? So …" He jumped to his feet and turned to his two compatriots expectantly. "… who's going to do this?"

"Not me," Marcus said immediately. "You both are much better at this stuff than I am."

"Then why are you always the lead in everything?" Axel asked, partly as a jab but also partly seriously.

The big man smirked at him in reply. "Have you paid attention to the roles I play?" he asked. "They're all the same. One hero isn't much different from the next. It's the character roles that require talent."

"Which is us!" Zidane proclaimed proudly. Turning to his friend, he asked, "Mind if I do the honors, Blank?"

"Not at all. I'll run backup."

"Which makes me the director."

"Sounds like a setup to me."

"All right, then let's do it."

Completely at a loss yet amused all the same, Axel hoisted himself up off of the floor and into the chair next to Demyx's while the three actors broke apart to different parts of the lobby. Marcus made a beeline for the literature table where they kept flyers and postcards for upcoming productions as well as community events, Blank wandered off a bit to lean against the wall with his arms crossed, and Zidane simply took a few steps back into the center of the room and stood there with his head down and his eyes closed.

After a few silent moments, Marcus approached Zidane with a small stack of postcards and asked, "You ready?" When the blond actor responded with a nod, the bigger man tossed his handful to the ground in front of him. "You've been taking pictures of Demyx," he intoned. "Here they are. Look at them and tell me what you feel."

Zidane opened his eyes. They stared blankly ahead for a heartbeat, then slid downwards to regard the squares of paper on the floor. Carefully, he sank to his knees and began to slowly sort through them, gazing at them as if they weren't really there. After a moment, he murmured, "Why did I take these?"

Axel snorted. "That's what we want to know."

"Shh!" Blank shushed him harshly. "Don't break his concentration."

Mildly annoyed, the red-head raised an eyebrow in questioning protest, but as Zidane continued to speak, he slowly began to realize exactly what was unfolding in front of him.

"I didn't have a choice. I had to take them. But why? Why did I have to take them? Why him? I don't understand. I have a logical mind. A clinical mind. Emotional things like desire and inspiration don't make sense to me. This doesn't make sense to me. Why do I smile when I see him? Why does it hurt when I don't? I don't understand. I don't _understand!_ " He smashed his palms against the ground, trapping a few "photos" beneath his hands and scattering several others. The sudden angry outburst surprised Axel into sucking in a breath and holding it there. He had heard of actors losing themselves in their characters before, but it had always been creating the character's actions from the provided words. Never had he seen it done the other way around.

Zidane had crumpled from the tired despair that followed his anger, his forehead almost touching the ground. "It doesn't make sense," he whispered, just barely loud enough for the others to hear. "I want it to make sense, but I can't do it. I hate this. I hate admitting this, but I need help. I can't figure this out by myself. I need someone to help me. Who can I get to help me?" A quiet heartbeat passed, and then Zidane was sitting up, one of the postcards in his hand. His glazed eyes stared at it as his face broke out into a small smile. "He can help me," he breathed in a mixture of relief and wonder. "He's the reason I'm going through this. I can ask him to -" A spasm of fear shot across his face, and suddenly he was skittering backwards, away from the pieces of paper on the floor. "No. No no no no no no. I can't ask him anything. I can't talk to him."

"Why can't you talk to him ?" Marcus asked, and his voice made both Axel and Demyx jump, engrossed as they were in the performance before them.

"I can't talk to him," Zidane continued, smoothly responding to the interrupting question, "because … because … because look at me!" He threw his arms out and looked down to regard himself. "I'm a mess right now! I'm not myself. I'm usually so put together, but not now. If I talk to him now, he'll laugh at me." His arms closed in to circle around himself in a universal gesture of doubt and fear. "He'll laugh at me," he repeated miserably. "And he won't help me, and I'll still be stuck like this except worse. And … and maybe …" he whispered, eyes closing tightly as an expression of pain flickered over his face, "… maybe he'd laugh even if I were myself. We're so different. I'm nothing like he is. There's no way he would talk to me."

"Oh my God," Demyx murmured to himself, and Axel had to agree. All of this was just speculation on Zidane's part, but the red-head had to admit that it was making far too much sense. Axel had always assumed Demyx's stalker wanted to remain unknown because he was a _stalker_ , because he got some sort of thrill from knowing more than his victim did. Demyx had firmly held onto the belief that the man was just shy and that he felt maintaining anonymity meant he could be himself. Neither had put forth the hypothesis that the pictures had started to arrive without explanation because the sender feared rejection. They had arrived in such intimate and unexpected ways that Axel had always imagined the mystery man as someone bold and slightly arrogant. The thought that he was insecure had never crossed Axel's mind.

Marcus's voice cut through the brief silence that had fallen. "If you can't talk to him, how can you get him to help you? Through the pictures? Why did you send them?"

Opening his eyes, Zidane crawled back to the scattered postcards and picked one up. "I sent them because … because …" He frowned heavily, obviously having trouble with this aspect of his character. "Because …" He closed his eyes again and fisted a hand against his forehead, visibly struggling.

"All right," Marcus interrupted gently. "It's all right. We'll let that one go. Just stay there for a moment." Eyes still closed, Zidane nodded and relaxed, and Marcus turned instead to the actor who had yet to do anything. "What do you think, Blank? Any ideas?"

Blank's eyes had not left Zidane since the blond had begun speaking, and they stayed there as the man answered, "He has a logical mind. Like a scientist. Maybe it was an experiment?"

A sharp intake of breath beside him made Axel turn and gaze questioningly at Demyx. His friend had gone suddenly rigid, eyes wide with surprise and something that looked like realization.

"Does that help, Demyx?" Marcus asked him, seeing the same thing that Axel had.

"Yes," the blond whispered excitedly. "Yes, it does." In a sudden burst of action, he turned to Marcus and asked, "Can you skip forward to last week? To when we met at the club? Can you do that?"

"Sure." The big man walked over to the papers on the ground and began picking them up as he spoke, "Scene change. You've been exchanging letters with Demyx for a few months now, under the alias of 'Echo'. Demyx has asked you to follow him, and you have. The two of you are alone in a mostly dark room." Straightening with his hands full, he motioned to Blank who pushed off of the wall without a word. Zidane rose to his feet and moved a few steps away as Blank sank down to his knees in the space his friend had just vacated. "Demyx has just blindfolded himself," Marcus stated as Blank reached up to pull his headband over his eyes. Moving back to his place beside the two spectators, the actor-turned-director finished, "The rest will have to come from you, Dem. The more details you can give us, the more we can give you back."

"O-okay," Demyx breathed. He swallowed once and leaned forward in his chair, a mixture of excitement and fear in his eyes. "I told Echo that I had something I wanted to say but that I wanted to be able to touch him. To prove to myself that he was really real. So I held out my hand and asked him to come sit in front of me and take it." Blank lifted his hand into the air in an appealing gesture, mimicking the words as Demyx said them. "Nothing happened for … oh, I don't know. It felt like ten minutes, but I'm sure it wasn't really that long. Three or four minutes maybe? Anyway, I had given up and was reaching for my blindfold to take it off when there was a rush in front of me and someone grabbed my hand right before I could."

"So?" Marcus questioned quietly to Zidane who had just finished falling to his knees before Blank and ripping the red-head's hand away from the headband. "Tell us what's happening."

"I was nervous," the blond actor complied in that glazed-over tone he had been using the entire time. "Scared. I've never touched him before. I'm afraid of what doing that will mean. I don't want to cross the space between us. I'm safe over here, on this side of the wall. But … I … I don't want to disappoint him either. I don't want to see him sad."

Marcus nodded. "What next, Demyx?" he asked.

"Um, we talked for a bit. I mean, _I_ talked and he listened. But we figured out a way for him to say 'yes' and 'no' by squeezing my hands, so it was like we were both talking. But then, um, I said that I should probably get around to the thing I wanted to tell him."

In the moment of silence that was born from Demyx's hesitation, Marcus instructed quietly, "Try to remember the exact words if you can, Dem. As close as you can remember them."

The musician nodded, his face pinched from the pain of reliving that moment. "I told him that I felt I had really gotten to know him well from the letters that we exchanged, and I said that I've really come to like him a lot. And then at the end, I said, 'I think I'm starting to fall for you, Echo.'" He paused, staring at the actors as if expecting them to continue replaying that night on their own. When neither one moved, even in the face of his confession, he suddenly remembered his role and shook his head sharply to clear it. "Echo didn't move for a long time," he continued. "I babbled for a bit, trying to fend off the rejection that I thought was coming, but eventually I shut up because he wasn't doing anything. And then, he suddenly put his hands on both sides of my face and leaned his forehead against mine. I …" He broke off briefly, fighting a sudden blush. "I thought he was maybe going to kiss me."

In front of them, Zidane had taken Blank's face in his hands as Demyx had described, but Axel could see by the blond actor's expression that kissing was the last thing on his mind. His expression was one of anguish, of barely-suppressed tears, and when Marcus prodded him gently for his thoughts and feelings, he responded with only a long whine. Seeming to understand his friend's needs, Marcus didn't push him, turning instead to Demyx and telling him to go on.

"We sat like that for a little while, just being close. Then, he let go of me and gave me a tight hug instead. I was actually happy until I heard him whisper, 'I'm sorry, Demyx.' The next second, he was gone, and by the time I figured out what had happened, taken off the blindfold, and run after him, he had disappeared."

Zidane whined again. He had not acted out Demyx's last instructions, but it seemed that he was ready to talk now. Even without Marcus's prompting, he began to murmur to himself, his tone becoming clearer and more pained with every sentence. "Echo. Echo. He's in love with Echo. I'm not Echo. Echo is my character. My mask. The wall I hide behind. He's not in love with me. He's in love with Echo. Not me. I … I … I can't take this. My heart is breaking. I can't be here anymore." In one swift movement, he gathered Blank up in a tight hug, his face pressed against the red-brown locks. "I'm sorry, Demyx," he whispered, making the musician shudder and cry out softly. "This is all my fault. I've made you love someone who doesn't exist. It's because of me that you're going to be sad. I didn't want this to happen. I just wanted … I wanted … I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'm such a coward. I should tell you. I should explain. But I can't. It hurts so much. I just can't. I'm sorry. _I'm sorry!_ "

With that final heart-broken apology, he tore himself from Blank's arms and fled. Rather than leave the lobby, however, he stopped near the far wall and bent over double, his hands on his knees, panting and coughing lightly. While initially Blank had continued in his role and blindly grasped after Zidane's retreating form, he soon pushed the headband back up, got to his feet, and crossed to his friend. He began lightly thumping the blond on the back and talking to him, helping him go through the process of breaking out of a character as intense and painful as that one had been. Only a few moments later, Zidane had straightened with his usual grin, but he still had a few tears on his cheeks that needed to be wiped away.

"So," he chirped, "did that help?"

Axel turned to Demyx and was surprised to find his friend staring sightlessly into the center of the room, his expression one of deep contemplation. "Yes," he eventually said, still obviously distracted. "It did. I … I think I know who he is."

"You do?" Axel asked, startled. He leaned forward and tried to force his way into Demyx's line of sight. "Who is it?"

Glazed blue-green eyes blinked themselves into focus, and a moment later Demyx smiled at him apologetically. "I don't want to say," he replied. "Just in case I'm wrong. But I promise I'll tell you once I'm sure."

Axel frowned at him, but before he could voice his protests, Demyx was on his feet, bounding over to the actors on the other side of the room and catching them up in a huge hug. The sight of the blond's smile made the red-head hold his tongue. It had been ages since he had seen Demyx smile like that. As much as he hated being kept in the dark, he supposed he could deal with it for a little bit as long as he knew that his friend was happy once again.

After a flurry of thank-yous and a few more hugs for good measure, Demyx departed, grinning and waving. "Thanks so much!" he called from the open door.

"Just invite us to the wedding!" Zidane called back.

"You bet!" Demyx laughed. He let the door shut behind him and literally skipped off down the street.

"So," the blond actor said after he had disappeared, "do we rock, or do we rock?"

"We rock," Blank replied simply and mussed up his friend's hair affectionately.

Grinning, Zidane batted the hands away before turning to Axel. "So, Firebird, do you have a problem for us, too?"

Axel rose from his chair and began walking back to his office as he replied easily, "Now, Zidane, while I have to admit I'm seriously impressed with what you guys just did, I'm rather hurt by the implication that _I_ would have any sort of relationship problems that would require asking for help. Now Blank on the other hand …" He trailed off with a grin that Zidane immediately copied.

"That's true!" he piped and turned on his friend who had quickly adopted an air of wariness. "Want us to help you get set up with Ruby?"

Just as he always did when asked about the blonde beauty, the red-head instantly flushed. Loudly, he demanded, "How many times do I have to say I'm not interested in her before you'll believe me?"

Thankfully, Axel had already reached his office, so the others did not see his mild wince at the other man's words. They sounded so much like his own in regards to another beautiful blond. At least he had not lied to Zidane when he had said he didn't need help. He fully understood Roxas's feelings toward him, and considering the complications that would arise if they were to attempt a relationship, perhaps that was for the best. In any case, there would certainly be no happy skip down the street for him.

Feeling suddenly depressed without knowing why, Axel shut the door to his office and returned to his desk.

xXx

Two days later, Axel sat in the back of the auditorium and watched as Roxas stood on stage and took direction from Larxene. As much as he wanted to deny that he had feelings for the boy, he simply could not ignore the way the little blond attracted him without even trying. Even now, he felt that pull, just by watching Roxas read through his lines. Something in that world-weary gaze, in that aggressive attitude, spoke to Axel's heart and made him want to see, hear, and feel more.

Still, he tried to reason with himself, wanting to spend as much time as possible with Roxas didn't automatically mean that he wanted a physical relationship with the kid. They could have a close friendship and leave it at that. Simple, platonic, safe. Or at least, they could if only Axel could forget how it felt to have his arm wrapped around those small shoulders. If only he could stop himself from imagining what it would feel like to kiss those scowling lips and run his fingers through that golden hair.

" _Fuck_ ," he hissed to himself and got up to go use the restroom.

By the time he returned, the Strife twins had finished their scene and Larxene had moved on to someone else. A quick scan of the auditorium produced Sora immediately, but Roxas was nowhere to be found. Ignoring the spike of worry that cut through his stomach, Axel wandered over to a seat and sat down. The fact that he chose a seat close to Sora meant absolutely nothing, or so he told himself.

No matter how he looked at it, this thing that he had for Roxas, this crush, was a really bad idea. Yes, there was the issue of their ages, but there was also the problem that Roxas was a student and, at the moment, Axel was a faculty advisor. Oh, he didn't have a teaching degree and wasn't formally employed by the school or anything, but he was in a position of authority over a group of minors. Legally, they were fine as long as they didn't do anything sexual; morally, well, Axel was pretty sure he was already fucked as far as that was concerned. He wouldn't be winning any Teacher of the Month awards from the PTA anytime soon, that was for sure. And if anything ever did happen between them, Kramer would surely use it as an excuse to kick Larxene out for good. If that ever happened, Axel doubted the cops would ever find his body. Pieces of it, maybe, but not the whole thing.

His depressing musings as to which states would end up home to bits of his anatomy were interrupted as Pence came flying down the aisle from the back of the auditorium. "Sora!" he cried as he screeched to a halt in front of the brunet boy. "You need to come quickly!"

Sora sat up in his seat, giving Pence his full attention. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Roxas," the other boy panted, and that one word was enough to force Axel bolt upright. "Seifer called Roxas out. They're gonna fight!"

To Axel's utter horror, Sora just shrugged and relaxed back into his seat. "It's okay," he said. "Roxas can take care of himself."

"But it's three against one!"

That did it for the eavesdropping red-head. Shooting to his feet, he demanded, "Where are they?"

Pence gaped at him for a moment, startled, but he quickly recovered. "I think they went over to the parking lot of the church across the street. Roxas said something about not fighting on school grounds."

"It really is okay, you know," Sora said again. "He'll be just fine."

But Axel was already moving. In those next few minutes when he ran like his life depended on it, he didn't think of the seven year difference between his age and Roxas's nor did he think of their respective positions as student and advisor. He didn't think of Cloud's disapproval or Kramer's horror or Larxene's anger. The only thing occupying his mind as his feet propelled his body forward was the knowledge that Roxas was in danger. Nothing else, truly _nothing_ else, mattered.

He picked out Seifer easily as he approached. The bully was a few steps ahead of his goons, talking smack at Roxas who was taking it with a bored expression on his face. Axel didn't bother with a friendly warning. He didn't even slow down. He simply ran up and, using the extra power behind his speed, sent Seifer flying with a punch across his jaw.

"What the hell?!" one of the other two, the male, cried. "You can't do that to Seifer, you know? Not without answering to me!" He surged forward.

Axel turned and easily met his rush. The guy was strong, but Axel had both a height advantage and superior skills courtesy of his brother. Within seconds his attacker was moaning on the ground. As for the girl, Axel gave her a glare that sent her backtracking towards the outer wall of the church, but otherwise he left her alone. Considering the threat dealt with, he turned his attention to Roxas who had watched the entire scenario unfold with wide eyes and an open mouth of disbelief.

"Are you okay?" Axel asked, crouching down in front of the stunned blond.

"Axel?" Roxas whispered. "Why are you - ?" He suddenly frowned, brows pulling down heavily in extreme irritation. "Idiot!" he barked. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I could have handled it myself. I don't need to be rescued like some fricking damsel in distress!"

For some reason, Axel felt extremely relieved by Roxas's anger. Grinning, he replied, "Yeah, I know, I know, but you can't blame a guy for worrying when he hears the girl of his dreams is in trouble."

The scowl that Roxas gave him was absolutely epic, and Axel knew he was in for one hell of a tongue lashing. Yet, he never received it. All at once, bright blue eyes widened in surprise and fear, and frowning lips parted with a cry of, "Axel! Watch out!" There was a clanging noise, pain, and then nothing as Axel's world went dark.


	41. Roxas

_Sora's breath is calm and even against his ear, but he knows his twin is still awake. All the other children around them are asleep, but they are both awake and will be for a long time yet. Sleep does not come easily to either of them, even when they are in each other's arms like right now. Nighttime is when their minds come alive and their fears are at their worst. Nighttime is when they are the most vulnerable._

_One of them always starts a conversation to fend off the nightmares. Sometimes he is the one to speak first; tonight it is Sora._

_"Roxas?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"Do you think we'll ever fall in love?"_

_The question is usually one of speculation like this. Sora especially likes to wonder what their lives will be like in the future and imagine that it will be so much better than it is now. This question, however, he does not like and he frowns into the darkness._

_"Why? Are you saying you want someone other than me?"_

_"No," his brother assures him hurriedly. "No, no, I could never want anyone other than you. You're everything to me. I'd die without you."_

_"Then why ask such a stupid thing?"_

_Sora shifts against him, a restless and uncomfortable movement. "I just …" he whispers. "Falling in love is supposed to be such a wonderful thing. I was just wondering if it would ever happen to us. And … and I thought that maybe it would be nice to … to kiss someone. Someday."_

_He considers this, giving it great thought. A year ago he would have scoffed and protested that kissing was stupid. Now, however, they are older. Now, their ages are in double digits. Puberty is looming, and things once dismissed as stupid and gross are beginning to look appealing._

_But regardless of his changing urges, he does not want anyone else to touch Sora. Ever. And that leaves him with only one option:_

_"You can kiss me."_

_His twin lifts his head and gazes down at him in surprise. He can just barely make out the shine of his eyes in the surrounding darkness. "What?"_

_"I said you can kiss me."_

_"But … but …" Sora's shadow-filled face frowns gently. "Isn't that supposed to be wrong? We're blood-related."_

_"Who cares?" he replies, and he means every word. "No one will ever love you as much as I do. If anyone gets to kiss you, I want it to be me."_

_Sora is silent for a minute, head cocked to one side, considering it. He waits patiently. Truthfully, he doesn't really care what the other boy decides. He has no desire to kiss Sora; he simply doesn't want anyone_ **_else_ ** _to do it. Eventually, the brunet head nods and darkened blue eyes gaze down at him._

_"Okay," he murmurs, and a moment later he is leaning down._

_It feels strange having something pressed against his mouth, and even though Sora's lips are warm and soft, it doesn't really help the claustrophobic feeling of having his brother's face so close to his own. Even with his eyes closed, he can feel that weight in front of him. If it were anyone other than Sora, he'd probably panic. Even knowing that it is Sora, it's still kind of uncomfortable._

_His brother's mouth is pushing against his, so he pushes back. After a moment of this, Sora's tongue slides against his lips and tries to sneak through. He lets it, even though the thought grosses him out. Thankfully, Sora seems to feel the same, for when their tongues touch briefly, he pulls back grimacing._

_"Eugh," he murmurs, half to himself. "Why do people do that?"_

_"Dunno."_

_"It's gross."_

_"Yeah."_

_Even in the darkness, he can see that his brother is disappointed, but Sora tries to hide it with a casual shrug. "Guess kissing isn't as amazing as people make it out to be," he says as he lies back down on the bed. His shoulders move in a silent sigh._

_Comfortingly, he slips an arm around those shoulders and hugs that little body close. Sora gratefully curls up against him, and he rests his cheek against his twin's messy brown hair. "Guess not," he whispers and closes his eyes._

xXx

Roxas had decided. He was surrounded by idiots.

His father was a lovey-dovey idiot, and that he could tolerate. As long as Cloud's and Leon's gooeyness didn't bother Roxas too much and as long as both men were happy, they could be idiots as much as they wanted. Sora, on the other hand, he wanted to smack upside the head. His brother was being such a total idiot for not realizing the fact that Riku was the best thing that had ever happened to him and accepting the stupid guy's apology already. The other idiot he had wanted to smack was Seifer. That guy still seemed to think that he could intimidate Roxas just by talking tough. Roxas was certain that, if Seifer had had to live through even a year of what Sora and Roxas had endured before being adopted, the moron would be cowering in a corner somewhere whining for his mommy.

The biggest idiot, however, the most awesomely moronic doofus in all the history of stupid fools, was undoubtedly Axel. The man could not take a hint even if it were to be branded into his forehead. He had continued to flirt with and annoy Roxas in spite of being yelled at and occasionally beaten up. He had taken all of Roxas's abuse with a cocky grin and a twinkle in his eye. Nothing stopped him, nothing deterred him, nothing even slowed him down.

And right now, right this very moment, Axel was on the ground at Roxas's feet, unconscious.

Horrified, the blond raised his eyes to Fuujin who stood only a few paces away, a slightly-dented garbage can lid dangling from her hand.

"Revenge," she said. Behind her, both Seifer and Raijin were getting to their feet.

Roxas bared all his teeth in a fierce snarl. Oh, he was going to _kill_ Axel for being so stupid! For disregarding Fuujin as a threat just because she was a girl. His blood was positively boiling. And that annoying smirk on Seifer's face wasn't helping matters.

"Heh, good job, Fuu," he said, cracking his knuckles.

"Gratitude," she replied in that bizarre way of hers. The garbage can lid hit the ground with a rolling clatter.

"So what are you going to do now, _Roxas_?" he asked, drawing out the blond's name in a nasty sneer. "Your reinforcements just bit the dust."

Roxas flexed his hands and bent his knees a bit. "I didn't need backup in the first place," he stated lowly. "As for what I'm going to do, it should be pretty obvious. I'm going to kick your asses."

Seifer's mocking laugh cut off short as Roxas lunged forward and took Fuujin down with a punch to the gut. He didn't particularly enjoy hitting girls, but she had already proven that she had no qualms about fighting dirty. At least he had the courtesy to take her out in such a way that the bruise wouldn't be visible. The two guys would be receiving no such consideration.

An explosive curse cut through the air as Fuujin went down, and in an instant both Seifer and Raijin were on him. Roxas concentrated on blocking and avoiding their attacks and calmly waited for the openings he knew would come. The darker of his two attackers had more strength but less skill, so Roxas found his chances with him first. A couple of cracks across the face disoriented Raijin enough that he soon gave the smaller male a larger, more obvious opportunity, and within seconds he hit the pavement, knocked cold from a kick to the head. That just left Seifer, and with Roxas's undivided attention on him, he didn't last long. He shook off several of the stomach punches that had flattened Fuujin, but the buildup of pain took its toll quickly. A punch across the jaw, similar to the one Axel had given him earlier, sent Seifer to his hands and knees, and a follow-up blow to the neck laid the bully out for good. Just like that, the whole thing was over.

Fisting his hands on his hips, Roxas stood and assessed the damage. For some reason, he didn't feel even remotely satisfied. He still felt pissed, still wanted to punch the living shit out of something. And it was strange because usually he didn't get this emotionally involved in a fight as pointless as this one. But something in him had just snapped when he had seen Axel go down and he hadn't been able to -

Axel.

Feeling a sudden rush of worry, Roxas ran to the red-head's side and knelt down next to him. Carefully, he turned the larger body over, unthinkingly bringing the man's head into his lap. He quickly checked for cuts or bleeding and, finding none, attempted to rouse him with a few gentle taps on his cheek. He didn't know much about head injuries and concussions, but he knew enough to know that getting the man awake and lucid was a good idea.

"Axel. Hey, Axel. Wake up. Axel." The man's eyelids fluttered, and a moment later, two circles of electric green were staring blankly up at him. He smiled at them, hiding his relief behind polite concern. "Are you okay? Can you hear me? Can you talk to me? How about your vision? Is it blurry or anything? Do you feel sick?"

Axel continued to stare up at him in a daze, his mind obviously not all there yet. "Roxas?" he asked muzzily.

"Yeah," Roxas answered him, keeping his voice soft in case anything louder would be painful. "Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?"

"Kiss me."

Roxas's heart stopped. Stupefied, he stared down, finally realizing exactly where Axel was. The man's head was in his lap, in a classically romantic position. Roxas had one of his hands on the red-head's cheek, and the other one had slipped into his hair to slide over his scalp and check for bumps. The older man was so trustingly submissive at this moment, Roxas so tenderly protective. And Axel had just asked Roxas to kiss him.

He wet his lips nervously, swallowed, swallowed again, and finally managed a croaking, "What?"

Calm green eyes suddenly came to panicked life as Axel finally seemed to get enough of his bearings to realize what he had just asked. His hands flew up and began waving back and forth in front of his chest as if trying to fend off Roxas's imminent wrath. He grinned wildly, but it looked more fearful than cocky.

"No, no, I mean, I'm hurt, right? I've been wounded on the battlefield. A casualty. Struck down while trying to protect my maiden's honor. But I'm sure whatever wounds I have, a kiss from my princess would make them all better." He attempted a saucy wink, but it didn't work very well.

Roxas frowned at him in thought. Clearly Axel was freaked out by his casual request a moment ago and was trying to cover it up with his usual joking. Roxas was freaked out, too, but at himself. In that second right before panic had invaded that green gaze, he had wanted, actually _wanted_ , to do what Axel had asked. The man was just so sexy, even when he was being a prick, and he had proven, more than once now, that he could be thoughtful and kind. Even if he hadn't asked for a kiss, he deserved something for rushing out to protect Roxas and for getting hurt while doing so.

What was a kiss, really, in the grand scheme of things?

"Close your eyes."

Caught in the middle of a random babble, Axel snapped his mouth shut and stared up at Roxas in shock. "What?" he whispered.

"Close your eyes," Roxas repeated softly. And they really were the most incredible eyes. So vibrant and alive. Like they could infuse their energy into the most jaded, world-weary soul. "Don't breathe."

Five years ago, he had kissed Sora, and while it had been pleasant, it had been nothing special. Since then, he had not had any opportunity for a second try. He of course knew that kisses were supposed to be amazing and electrifying and heart-stopping. He knew they were supposed to make your pulse pound and your knees go weak and lots of other things that generally sounded like health hazards to him. Sora had claimed that kissing Riku did all those things to him and more, but Roxas was a self-proclaimed cynical bastard and figured that his brother was so silly in love that he would feel that way if Riku read out the weather report. So while Roxas could definitely see the point in kissing and assumed that it was at least rather nice, he estimated that seventy to eighty percent of what was said about the action was gross exaggeration.

That number rapidly dwindled down to next to nothing as he leaned down to kiss Axel. He knew he was breathing the same air as he had before, and yet it seemed thinner, harder to pull into his lungs. His heart had picked up speed for no apparent reason. He found himself hovering just slightly above the man's mouth, not out of hesitation, but out of a desire to savor the feeling of their faces being so close, of Axel's unsteady breath on his lips. Rather than feeling claustrophobic, it felt comfortable and warm. Like he was meant to be there. And when he did cross that final distance, a definite tingle shot up his arms and down his legs, like a small electric current flowing through his bloodstream. It was so cliché he would have laughed if it weren't real and actually happening to him.

He had meant for it to be a quick chaste peck, something substantial enough to count as a real kiss but not particularly long or involved. When his lips touched Axel's, however, something instinctual took Roxas over instead. His hands slid around the man's body, one on the red-head's back, the other on the back of his head, and pulled him closer. The light touch that he had started with quickly became harder, his lips moving of their own accord. In his arms, Axel finally recovered from his shock and began to move. One long-fingered hand threaded through the blond's hair while the other lifted to lightly grasp his shoulder. When he began to kiss back, it was with a gentleness and a respectfulness that Roxas didn't know the man possessed.

It truly was amazing, but it wasn't enough. Even though he had never realized how empty his arms felt without Axel's body in them, now that he knew he wanted more. He pulled the red-head closer, close enough that he could feel the man's heart beating against his own chest, but it still wasn't enough. He was awash with a warmth that filled him from head to toe, but there was an undercurrent of hunger in the pleasure that only intensified as time passed. In particular, the insides of his cheeks ached, up near the hinge of his jaw, just behind his back teeth. The bizarre impulse to suck on something floated through his mind. Refusing to think too much on it, he shifted his lips slightly, captured Axel's bottom lip between his, and pulled it into his mouth.

Two things happened then: one, the ache in his cheeks noticeably lessened and two, Axel released a shaky, non-vocal sigh of surprise and pleasure that lit Roxas's blood on fire. In an instant, he had pushed his tongue over the lip he held, past the neat row of teeth, and deep into Axel's mouth. Once there, he instinctively began to stroke against the red-head's tongue, slowly, sensually, like he was petting a cat. He knew that if he stopped to think about it, he would be grossed out, but he also knew that he would be _damned_ before he stopped to think about it. It just felt so good. Like fifteen years of stored up endorphins had all been released at once.

His heart was pounding like mad and breathing had become too difficult to do through his nose, so Roxas reluctantly pulled back. Yet Axel would not let him break the kiss. The man's tongue followed him as he pulled away, playfully licking at his lips and showing the less experienced of the two that a kiss need not stop for oxygen. Panting lightly for the air his body needed, Roxas followed Axel's silent instructions and nipped gently at the lips and tongue that continued to harass him until he felt confident enough to seal them firmly together a second time. A quiet groan slipped from the red-head's throat as their tongues resumed their sensual petting, and the sound sent a thrill through the blond's body so intense that it made his head positively spin.

He had no idea how long they stayed there, making out like newlyweds in the empty parking lot of a random church. They probably would have stayed there until one or the other of them passed out if someone hadn't cleared his throat gently a few feet away. The small sound instantly brought a bucket of ice-cold reality crashing down on Roxas's head. He immediately dropped Axel, who might have received a second concussion from the treatment were he not scrambling to get as far away from Roxas as possible, as quickly as possible.

"Don't freak out," the person said, and Roxas was relieved, at least a little bit, to see that it was Marluxia who had spoken. The designer had a friendly smile on his face, although Roxas noticed that he kept his eyes pointedly on Axel. "Larxene's looking for you," he informed his friend. "You probably want to hurry up and get back. You know how she can get when she wants something."

"Yeah," Axel replied, sounding hoarse and distracted and totally not himself. He had risen to his feet at some point and now stood there, his face nearly purple it was so red, his eyes looking anywhere but at Roxas. "She could learn a thing or two about patience."

"You're more than welcome to teach her," Marluxia laughed. "As for me, I like having my spine in my body instead of ripped out through the top of my head."

Axel tried to laugh, but it didn't come out right. He stood there for a moment longer, perhaps trying to will his face into a more normal color, then shook his head and strode forward. "Thanks, Mar," he said as he passed by. He didn't look back.

Roxas ducked his head and stared at the ground. He didn't know what to expect from the adult left behind, but he was pretty sure it would be humiliating whatever it was. To his surprise, Marluxia was quiet for a minute. Then, he asked, "You okay, Roxas?"

When the blond lifted his head in question, the brunet tipped his head at the three bodies still lying on the ground in answer. "Yeah," Roxas eventually said. "I'm okay."

"Okay," Marluxia echoed, and he smiled once more. The gesture was simple, without condescension or smugness. It made Roxas feel at ease, as if the man was saying that whatever troubles and worries the boy would have to work through from here on out, what Axel's friends thought would not be one of them.

After one final look at the surrounding carnage, the designer turned and began walking back to the school. Over his shoulder, he commented, "You should come back soon, you know. Larxene likes to have all of her little puppets within shouting distance."

Roxas waited until Marluxia had crossed the street that separated the two parking lots, and then he too rose and began to walk. He was in a daze, his mind was a mess of jumbled thoughts, and he wanted it to stay that way as long as possible. He knew that the moment he pulled himself together and really thought about what had just happened, he was going to _freak out_. For the sake of everyone involved, and of the community in general, it would be best to have Sora around when he did.

His brother was exactly where he had left him, in a seat in the auditorium. Blue eyes identical to his own rose to meet his as he approached, and it took those eyes exactly two seconds to realize something was wrong.

"Roxas?" he questioned.

He answered with a single word: "Bathroom."

Sora nodded and rose. When they reached the boys' room, Roxas waited by the door while Sora quickly checked the stalls to make sure they were alone. Once he was satisfied, he returned to Roxas and leaned against the wall.

"So?" he asked. "What happened?"

Roxas inhaled, exhaled, and let it all go. "I kissed Axel." Oh God, he had kissed Axel! He had kissed _Axel_! _Kissed_ him! And he had liked it. No, he had freaking loved it! He hadn't wanted to stop. It had felt so good, like being with the red-head had made him whole or some other stupid, clichéd, girly crap like that. And he wanted to do it again. He was aching inside; his hormones were whining at him, calling him a tease. They wanted Axel. _He_ wanted Axel. No one else would do.

Sora was gaping at him. "You did? How? Why?"

"Because …" Grimacing, he buried his face in his hands. Reliving this for his brother was going to kill him. "Okay, you know how Seifer called me out?"

"Yeah."

"I was getting ready to fight him when Axel suddenly showed up and took Seifer out for me."

"Yeah, I figured that was what he was going to do," Sora commented. When Roxas gave him a questioning look, he explained, "Pence came in and said you were going to fight. I told them not to worry about you, but Axel took off anyway."

Roxas snorted and shook his head. He could so see that happening. The idiot. "He took out Rai, too, but he left Fuu alone and she went and bashed him over the head while he was checking on me."

It was Sora's turn to snort. "Idiot," he stated.

"Exactly. Well, after I took out all three of them - they were pathetic by the way - I checked up on him, made sure he wasn't bleeding and that his brains weren't leaking out of his ears, stuff like that, and I asked him if there was anything I could do for him." Roxas paused and swallowed. It was a lot harder than it should have been. "He asked me to kiss him."

Sora's eyebrows crawled up his forehead into his bangs. "And you _didn't_ immediately rip his head off?" he asked incredulously.

"No, Sora," Roxas sighed, "I didn't. I figured he deserved it for at least trying to protect me even though he failed miserably. And, you know, for helping you out when you needed it and for just generally being nice when it was important. I figured he deserved at least a little one."

His brother had his head on one side now, giving him a scrutinizing look that made Roxas want to shift guiltily on his feet. "Except it wasn't just a little one, was it?"

"Um, no." And then, without warning, that last little bit of control he was desperately holding onto broke. Roxas lunged at Sora, grabbing him by the shoulders in mind-numbing panic. "Sora, I think I like him. I think I really like him. And if I do, then you have got to get this stuff with Riku sorted out right away because I need you! You can't be having relationship problems at the same time that I am! Hurry up and forgive Riku so you can help keep me from going crazy!"

Sora's initial shock at being manhandled quickly melted into light laughter. "Roxas …" he chastised gently.

"He's twenty-two, Sora," he interrupted. "He's twenty-two and I'm fifteen and I want to do things to him that'll land him in jail. I want him to do the same things back to me. Do you have any idea how screwed I am?"

"Actually, you're not, or he'd already be in jail, right?"

" _Sora!_ " Roxas whined, shaking him roughly. "I'm _serious_! He's practically Dad's age. Dating him would be like dating Dad. And yet, even though I know that, even though I know how wrong it is, I still want to do it. I can't …" He leaned his head against his twin's shoulder, suddenly tired and miserable. "I can't stop thinking about him, Sora, and now that I've kissed him, I know it's just going to get worse. It already has. I want him so badly. I … I …" He sighed and squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he asked, "What am I going to do?"

Sora's hands were in his hair, stroking along his scalp softly. "Roxas," his brother said after a pause, "when did all this happen? The last I knew, you thought Axel was as attractive as pond scum. When did you change your mind?"

It took Roxas a moment to answer, although not from a lack of memory. "The day you broke up with Riku."

"I see." His hands continued to stroke through Roxas's hair, doing wonders to calm him down and make him feel better. "I know he's been flirting with you since the second he first saw you, but since it's Axel, I need to ask: Did he kiss back?"

Something warm flip-flopped in Roxas's stomach as he answered, "Yes."

"He likes you back then," Sora stated confidently.

"I guess so."

"Hmm."

Sora fell silent once more, this time for quite awhile. Roxas just rested against his twin's shoulder and mentally beat on himself. He was supposed to have more self-control than this. Yes, he was fifteen and pumped full of hormones, but he still should have enough power over himself to say no. His heart he couldn't help, but the rest of him he could. He didn't have to act on these feelings; he could be mature about it. Having a relationship with Axel would be bad, disastrous really. He knew that, and yet his resolve had been blasted to bits with one kiss. One taste of temptation and he was a royal mess. God, he was pissed at himself. He felt truly awful, like his whole life was spinning out of control.

"You know," Sora whispered just as Roxas was contemplating how difficult it would be to move to another continent, "three years isn't that long of a time."

Time didn't actually stop, but it hiccupped a bit. Slowly, Roxas lifted his head off of Sora's shoulder and stared into his eyes, blue to serene blue. "What?" he asked.

"In three years, you'll be eighteen. You'll be legal. More like two and a half, really." Sora smiled at him, his expression oddly calm. "Seven years may seem like a lot now," he continued, "but the older you get, the less extreme it will seem. Besides, Axel's pretty immature for his age, and everyone knows you're the opposite. As far as behavior goes, you're both probably at about the same level."

"Sora," Roxas breathed, "are you actually _encouraging_ me to go out with Axel?"

His twin smiled at him again, this one a bit sadder than the first. He answered, "I'm encouraging you to be happy, Rox. Isn't that what you've been doing for me? Isn't that why you and Kairi keep ganging up on me about Riku? Because you want me to be happy? You want me to not give up just because everything isn't going perfectly. You want me to fight my fears and my doubts and hold on to the one person I love with everything I have. Well, I want you to do the same. If you like Axel, if you want to be with him, then don't run or push him away. Fight for him. Maybe you can't be together right now, maybe you'll have to wait, but that doesn't mean you have to be apart either."

Roxas hung his head. His brain was spinning wildly, and his heart was beating against his chest like it wanted to escape. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of all this before. He had been so hung up on the idea that wanting to be with Axel was _wrong_ that he hadn't thought of trying to find the middle ground between what he had and what he wanted. Sora was absolutely right. There were different levels of dating. Holding hands did not equal kissing did not equal having sex. As long as he and Axel set down strict boundaries and followed them, there would be nothing wrong with having a romantic relationship with the man. Some people would probably think them wrong or deviant for it, but Roxas had never cared what other people thought and wasn't about to start now.

He could make this work.

"Thanks, Sora," he said quietly, lips turning up into a little smile.

"You're welcome," his brother replied and pulled him in for a hug.

"Promise me something though?"

"Sure. What is it?"

Grinning, Roxas pulled back and rested his forehead against his twin's. "Promise me you'll help me explain this to Dad in such a way that he won't strangle Axel the first chance he gets."

Sora laughed and bumped his nose against his brother's.

"You bet."


	42. Monday

_Axel_

Axel stabbed at the ice cubes in his drink with his straw and sulked. He really didn't want to be here. If he had only been a couple of steps faster, he wouldn't have to be here. But Marluxia had finally caught up to him after practice and suggested dinner with a look in his eyes that said Axel had better not refuse. He had had his damn hand on the handle of the door of his damn car, that's how close he had been. If he had only been a little faster, he could have been free. Instead, he was here, sitting in Pizza Hut, trying to demolish his ice cubes while Larxene decided what toppings she wanted and Marluxia flirted with the waitress in order to procure kids' menus and crayons.

Life hated him, and at the moment, he hated it right back.

"So," the blonde across from him said once the waitress had disappeared, "is anybody going to tell me why we kidnapped Firebird, or should I just throw out guesses and you can tell me if I get close?"

The brunet next to her laughed. "As entertaining as that might be, I think we should save time and just tell you." He slid his eyes to Axel and gave him a friendly smile. "Care to do the honors, Firebird?"

Axel just glared at him. No, he did not want to fucking do the honors. He wanted to go home and either drink himself to death or immerse himself in car crashes and explosions on the TV. Or both. The last thing he wanted to do was think about how his life had gone from perfectly fine to painfully complicated to completely fucked up in a matter of weeks. And he certainly did not want to think about the reason behind that change or about how he now knew how much passion was hidden in that little blue-eyed, blond-haired statue of rebellious indifference.

"Does this have to do with why I had to send you out to find him in the middle of practice today?" Larxene asked.

"Indeed." Marluxia's smile was still friendly, but there was a smug edge to it that Larxene easily picked up on. Slowly, a matching smile spread across her face, and her eyes lit up like a child being offered a cookie before dinner.

Ignoring them, Axel kept his head down and breathed steadily through his nose. He knew what was about to happen and resolved to take it like a man. This humiliation was just punishment for what he had done. His friends could have a good laugh at his expense or indulge themselves in a long lecture or do whatever else the hell they wanted to do. He would sit there and take it. And afterwards, he would follow Marluxia and Larxene home, murder them, and burn down their entire apartment complex.

Well, no, he wouldn't, but _fuck_ it would be satisfying if he did.

Larxene had leaned in close as if the two of them were a couple of schoolgirls gossiping on the playground. Partially behind her hand, she said, "The kids were whispering something about Roxas getting into a fight. Did Axel go to save him …" She glanced at the red-head out of the corner of her eyes with twinkling delight. "… or did he go to join in?"

"I'm not sure," Marluxia answered, causing her to pout in mock disappointment. "But there had obviously been a fight and Team Roxas won. And as we all know, to the victors go the spoils." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing Larxene to sit back with a look of genuine surprise. Taking her silence as his cue to continue, the brunet turned to Axel and added, "I'm quite proud of you, you know. Although, I was rather surprised that you allowed him to dominate you."

Snarling in sudden anger, Axel snatched a sugar packet from the little bin next to his elbow and chucked it at Marluxia's face. "Shut up, you ass!" he hissed, feeling his face flush. "You make it sound like I was having sex with him!"

"You practically were," the brunet whined, rubbing his cheek where it had been hit. "I mean, I never would have believed that a couple could copulate using nothing but their two mouths, but now that I've seen it with my own eyes, I have to admit it's possible." The wounded expression left his face as he turned to the blonde beside him with a devilish grin. "Larx, baby, you should have seen it. It was seriously hot. Roxas had him practically pinned to his body and was going at his mouth like a prospector digging for gold."

To Axel's horror, Larxene's previously surprised expression had smoothed out into the blank look of someone who was listening carefully and assessing data. When her sharp eyes slid to him, he nearly had a heart-attack on the spot. "Was he?" she asked calmly.

His fingers itching to just chuck the entire bin of sugars at the brunet, Axel kicked him under the table instead and said, "Shut _up_ , you pathetic fairy wanna-be! It doesn't matter what happened because it's _never_ going to happen again!"

Marluxia expertly hid his pain and turned up his nose at Axel instead. "Is that supposed to be an insult?" he asked haughtily. "You know, just because I'm not gay doesn't mean I can't be a successful interior decorator."

"You just keep on thinking that, Mar," Larxene interjected, leaning forward on the table. While her lover sputtered indignantly at her side, she fixed her piercing gaze on the other man at the table and continued, "Now, Axel, let me get all of this straight: You ran out today when you heard that Roxas was in trouble, joined the fight rather than breaking it up, and when it was over, proceeded to make out with him until Pinky here came and stopped you. Is that right?"

He was dead, and he knew it. "Yes." At the delicate lift of her eyebrow, however, he tried for one last chance at pardon. "But the whole thing happened off the school grounds, and I swear to you, Larx, that it won't happen again. If you want, I'll quit the show. Gip is good enough to run things without me. He'll be fine. As for next year, well, I'm sure we can figure something out. Hayner will still be around for one, and maybe I can ask Gippal to train some kids before he graduates. We can probably-"

"Enough." The word had been spoken quietly and without much force, but it still made Axel cringe backwards in his seat. Larxene was still staring at him with that blank expression, and he had the unsettling feeling that he was about to be murdered and served up on a pizza for a neighboring table. "You're missing the point," she told him.

Surprised, he blinked at her. What could be more important than the fact that he had betrayed her trust and put her position with the school at jeopardy? "What's the point?"

"The point, Axel, is that it takes more than one person to make out."

He stared at her, stunned, as her lips lifted into a little self-satisfied smile. Next to her, Marluxia nodded his feathered head and commented, "Exactly."

At this point in time, several thoughts crossed Axel's mind along these lines: He wasn't going to die. This was a good thing. His friends were both completely crazy, although he sort of knew this already so it wasn't that surprising. As crazy as they were, however, they were also completely correct. Roxas had made out with him, willingly and for an extended period of time. Axel hadn't taken advantage of the kid in any way. Both parties in the activity had been consenting - shocked and mildly-concussed in Axel's case, but consenting. And that meant that right now Roxas was probably as confused as he was, wondering what he should do now and where, if anywhere, they should go from here.

He was an idiot and a selfish one at that. He should have realized it himself. He should have at least given some thought to what Roxas was thinking and feeling now. Instead, he had spent all his time worrying about what Larxene was going to say and how she was going to kill him. Well, Larxene wasn't going to kill him and he had far bigger problems to worry about. First and foremost among them was that Roxas was attracted to him, he was attracted to Roxas, and they absolutely could _not_ be together under any circumstances.

Axel leaned his elbows on the table, dropped his head in his hands, and groaned.

"Ah, look," Larxene cooed to Marluxia as she sat back again. "I think our dear knucklehead has finally figured it out."

"I'm so proud of him!" the brunet sighed, clapping his hands together in mock rapture.

Axel rolled his eyes at the both of them from behind his fingers. "Shut up," he whined tiredly. "Give me _some_ credit, okay? I thought he still hated me."

"Well, apparently he doesn't," Marluxia grinned, "and despite your protests, we all know you've wanted him since Christmas, so-o-o-o …" He leaned in close and poked at one of the other man's elbows. "What are you going to do about it?" he asked expectantly.

Axel didn't even have to think about it. "Nothing," he replied, dropping his hands and staring at the table with dull eyes. "He's jailbait."

The other man sat back and scoffed lightly in disbelief. "You're going to let that stop you?"

"Well, let me think … _yes_."

"Oh please. When I was sixteen, I screwed a woman twice my age, and she was married."

"Not all of us aspire to be as deviant as you, Mar."

"Hmph. I don't see why not."

"Axel." Larxene's calm voice cut through their bantering and caused both men to look at her attentively. She was examining her fingernails with an air of detachment, but Axel could tell that she was far more concerned with the matter than she seemed to be. "You're not going to be able to get away with 'nothing', you know. If nothing else, Roxas will want to talk to you about what happened, and you shouldn't avoid him." Her eyes flicked at him briefly during these last words, emphasizing without words that when she said "shouldn't", she really meant "won't".

This time, however, the threat rolled right off of him. He had no intention of avoiding Roxas. He knew enough to know that running would only make the situation worse. "I know, Larx," he replied to her comment, "and if he wants to talk, I'll talk, but the end result will still be nothing."

Marluxia frowned at him, clearly unhappy by this response. "You're not going to pursue him?" he clarified. "Hell, you're not going to take what's offered to you?"

"No, I'm not." Feeling tired and frustrated, Axel took a moment to rest his head in his hands again and gather his thoughts; then, he lifted his head and finally admitted, to them and to himself, "You're right, okay? I want him. I want him badly. Physically, yes, but also more than that. The things I feel for him are different and stronger than anything I've ever felt for anyone else. Not having him hurts. Seeing him and not being able to touch him hurts. But it doesn't matter what I feel or what he feels because he's jailbait, and more than that, he's a kid that I am at least partly responsible for. One of us has to be the mature one here, and no matter how much it hurts or how unused to it I am, it's going to be me."

His two friends regarded him for a long moment. Marluxia looked disappointed but still mildly impressed; Larxene simply looked thoughtful. Finally, the blond broke the silence by picking up a red crayon and twirling it idly in her fingers as she said, "If that's what you've decided, then that's what it's gonna be. It's your decision after all, not ours. Just …" She lifted her eyes and stared deeply into his, smiling with more gentle care than anyone she regularly terrorized would have thought possible. "… don't burn any bridges, okay, Firebird?"

He nodded, touched by her concern. "I'll try not to."

"Good." With that, the matter was obviously closed, and she poked Marluxia hard in the side with her crayon. "Hey, Mar, I challenge you to this dot game thing, whatever the hell it is."

The man beside her peered at where she pointed on the kids' menu in front of them, and his face broke out into a sly grin. "Sure thing, babe," he replied, "but I think you should know I'm an expert at that one."

"Pfft, like I care. I'm still going to kick your ass."

"Pride cometh before a fall, you know."

"Shut up and play, you damn poof."

Sighing, Axel picked up a blue crayon and turned to his own menu. _I'm sorry, Roxas_ , he thought as he started to do the word search. _I don't know what you're thinking or wanting right now, but if it's what I want, what we can't have, then I'm going to have to say no. It's time I started acting like the adult I am._

xXx

_Leon_

Zell raised his glass first, as was only fitting. "To Emily," he toasted. "Happy birthday and may you have many, many more."

"To Emily," Leon echoed along with Irvine and Selphie, saluting the blushing woman with his glass.

"Thank you," Emily murmured as the glasses came down again, "and thank you all for coming out with us tonight."

"Of course!" Selphie chirped merrily. "It's your birthday; we should celebrate. Besides," she added with a grin, "us moms need to get away from the kids once in a while, right?" She winked at the other woman who smiled back at her in agreement.

"So wait," Irvine interjected, grinning at his wife, "does that mean you _don't_ want another one?"

"No, I do," Selphie clarified. "It's just nice to take a break once in a while."

"You and Irvine are trying for another child, Selphie?"

"Yup yup."

Zell laughed and leaned forward over the table. "You shouldn't be drinking _this_ then, should you?" he asked, making a swipe at Selphie's wine.

The brunette frowned heavily and snatched her glass away from Zell's reaching fingers. "Mine!" she snapped. "Don't touch."

"But if you're trying to get pregnant -"

"I'm not pregnant yet, you big dolt, so hands off!"

As the conversation continued, underscored by laughter, Leon leaned back in his seat and just listened. It had been a long time since the five of them had gotten together like this. Usually they had the added distraction of children or work to periodically pull them away, but tonight the only interruption would be from their waiter as he served food or checked on their progress. Tonight, they could just enjoy each other's company the way that friends should.

"You're being awfully quiet there, Leonhart," Irvine eventually noted.

"This surprises you?" Zell asked in joking disbelief.

"Ha, I guess not."

"He was worse in high school, you know," Selphie added. Catching Zell's eye, she leaned forward and asked, "Remember that time when you bet Nida you could make him say more than a dozen words at a time?"

Zell shook his head from the memory of his defeat. "Yeah," he sighed. "I still say trying to get directions from him was a good idea. I just should have picked a place farther away. What ever happened to Nida? Do you know?"

"He went to school out west somewhere. I forget where. I think he got married a couple of years ago."

"Heh, remember when I set him up with Xu on a blind date?"

"Yes! Oh my god, that was so mean of you! He nearly had a heart attack."

"Well, I was going to set her up with Leonhart, but then he went and came out to us and ruined all my plans."

"Zell," Leon said with a smirk, finally joining in, "even if I had been straight, I was still smart enough never to trust you to set me up on a date with anyone."

While the others laughed, Zell gave him a half-hearted punch on the shoulder and pouted. "Why didn't you bring a date tonight?" he demanded. "I told you that you should."

Leon's eyes strayed against his will to the empty seat next to him. For years now, every time their little group went out to dinner, he had sat next to a vacant chair. It was simply because tables were made for an even number and he, being single, made their number odd. It had never bothered him before. Tonight, however, he felt a little awkward being the only one without a partner, especially since his friends were obviously a bit disappointed that he had come alone.

"I …" he faltered, not looking at any of them. "Tonight is for old friends. I didn't feel comfortable bringing someone new."

Surprisingly, Emily spoke first. "I wouldn't have minded," she said, smiling at him when he lifted his eyes to her. "As long as he belongs with you, he belongs here with us. Remember, I was once new, too."

"And me," Irvine added. He leaned back in his chair and slipped his arm around his wife. "The only 'old friends' here are you, Zell, and Selphie. The rest of us are just spouses added on after the fact. So bring him next time, okay? It'll be nice to have that chair occupied for once."

"Things are going okay with you two, right?" Selphie asked with uncharacteristic tact.

Leon smiled at her, his heart warming as his mind replayed the last few times he had met with Cloud. "Yeah," he answered. "Things are going just fine."

"Oh good," the brunette cried with a playful sigh of relief. She winked at him impishly, her normal personality returning. "The last I had heard, you tried to pull one of your 'Whatever' fits on him."

"What's a 'Whatever' fit?" Emily asked as Leon rolled his eyes and Zell snorted.

Selphie turned to her with an air of one about to impart something of grave importance. "It's when you're talking to him and he gets bored of listening to you, but instead of telling you or trying to change the subject or whatever, he just turns his back on you and walks away."

Emily gasped in mock horror and threw an obviously fake look of disapproval at him. "How very rude," she stated, fighting the smile that tried to take over her lips.

"I know!" Selphie returned, sending Leon a fake glare of her own. "He's better now, but he used to do it all the time back in high school. There was this one time - Zell you remember, I'm sure - when I had volunteered to be in charge of decorating the gym for the winter dance. Well, I was talking to Squall about what he could do to help, and I could have sworn he was paying attention to me, but then, right in the middle of my sentence -"

With an ease born from much practice, Leon tuned the rest of Selphie's story out. Instead, he let his eyes and mind wander once more to the vacant chair beside him. Perhaps next time he would invite Cloud. Emily and Irvine were right. The blond would not be intruding upon anything or ruining their get-together with his unfamiliar presence. If anything he would be finally completing their number by completing Leon.

His hand strayed towards the untouched place setting that sat beside him. Next time. Next time, he would make sure there was a hand there for him to hold, and no matter how much teasing he would have to endure because of it, he would make sure to hold it.

xXx

_Cloud_

Dinner was frozen burgers, store-bought macaroni salad, and potato chips. No, he hadn't bought super-lean ground beef and made the burgers himself, and yes, there were probably a ton of additives and other less-than-healthy things in pretty much everything on the table, but it wasn't McDonald's and that had to count for _something_ , dammit. He was a single dad working long hours at a job that didn't pay overtime. He'd take what victories he could get.

"So," he said as he liberally squirted mustard on his burger, "how was school today?"

"Fine," the twins chorused. They were giving each other private looks again, although Cloud had resolved to ignore it for now.

"Math test go well? Sora?"

"Um, I think so. There were a couple I wasn't sure of, but at least I answered everything."

"That's good. Roxas?"

"Yeah, no problems."

"Good."

He knew better than to ask about Riku. Sora still seemed to be mildly depressed and not himself, but at least some life had returned to him over the past few days. Cloud was relieved to see the positive change. As much as he had disliked Riku in the beginning, the boy had proven himself willing to put in the extra effort for Sora and had risen far above the level at which others had put him. Nowadays, Cloud was unashamedly hoping that the young couple would make up their differences and try again, and not simply because Riku's mistakes reminded him of his own.

"Tifa's coming to visit at the end of this week."

"Really?" Sora asked with something close to his normal smile. "She is?"

"Yeah. She has some sort of bartenders' convention to go to at the beginning of the week. She decided to take the whole week off, though, and come visit us for the last two days. She'll be here Thursday afternoon."

"Bartenders have conventions?" Roxas asked, amused.

"Don't ask me," Cloud answered with a shrug. "I'm just repeating what I was told."

Both of the boys laughed at this, and the sound made Cloud smile. Dinner progressed with more small talk and also, Cloud noted, more secret looks between the twins. He let them go for a while longer but eventually decided to meet the threat head-on rather than wait for the inevitable.

"All right, spill it," he demanded of the two pairs of blue eyes that lifted to him in surprise. "You two want to ask me something or tell me something, I can tell. So, out with it. What's going on?"

His sons looked at each other guiltily for a moment, but they soon visibly resolved themselves. Sitting back in their chairs, they fixed their gazes on him, and it was Roxas, unsurprisingly, who spoke.

"Dad, I want to talk to you about the rules you set down for Sora in regards to dating."

Cloud lifted a wary eyebrow. This was rather unexpected, although perhaps not completely. Perhaps Sora had made more progress with forgiving Riku than he had thought. He nodded his head once to indicate that Roxas should continue.

"I'm assuming that they're the same rules you would want me to follow, too."

Or perhaps not. The thought of Roxas dating, however, was an interesting concept on its own. He was rather surprised the boy had found someone he actually wanted to date. Cloud had never seen his blond son show any interest in anyone before, although to be fair, Roxas didn't wear his heart on his sleeve nearly as much as Sora did. He nodded again in answer to the question. Roxas frowned a little at this, and Cloud immediately went on the defensive. He should have known that the slightly more aggressive of the boys would balk at the heavy restrictions he had placed on his twin.

"Okay, well, I want to talk to you about that. When it comes to Sora, those rules are fine, but for me, I don't think they're quite strict enough."

"Actually, Roxas, I think the rules I've set are quite reasonable considering your age and your -" Cloud stopped. Blinked. Ran the past couple of seconds through his head one more time. "Wait," he clarified, "did you say they weren't _strict_ enough?"

"Yes," Roxas answered, his face a blank mask. "I think my curfew should be nine, not ten. I also think my boyfriend and I should be limited to public areas of the house like the living room or the kitchen and that I shouldn't be allowed over to his place at all without Sora or another friend you trust as a chaperone. If Sora and I are double-dating, it would be nice if the curfew could go back to ten for his sake, but if you'd rather it not, we can accept that."

The warning klaxons in Cloud's head were going haywire. Roxas's guarded expression, the words that he was saying, the fact that he was holding tightly onto Sora's hand underneath the table, all these things were combining together into what Cloud knew was going to be a mother of a headache. The worst part of it was that he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

He held up a hand. "Wait." When Roxas obeyed, he rose from his chair, crossed to the fridge to retrieve a beer, opened it, threw out the cap, and returned to the table. Once he had reseated himself, he lifted one hand to signal that he wasn't ready yet and with the other drained half of the bottle in one gulp. Only then did he lower both hands, fix his eyes on his son's slightly-nervous face, and ask, "And who exactly were you planning on dating?"

Roxas, to his credit, held his gaze without much visible effort. "Axel."

God, how he hated being right. "Axel," he repeated, dead-pan.

"Yes, Dad."

"The Axel who's in his early twenties. The Axel who harassed you at the Christmas party. The one I nearly creamed because he wouldn't leave you alone. That Axel."

He had to give Roxas credit; the boy wasn't flinching. "Yes, Dad."

"May I remind you, Roxas, that you are a sophomore in high school while that man is old enough to have graduated college?"

"They're about on the same maturity level, though," Sora piped up.

"Which, surprisingly enough," Cloud replied, "does little to relieve my anxieties." He took another long pull off his beer, setting it down with a decisive thump. "Look, Roxas," he said, "I understand what you're trying to do by imposing those strict rules on yourself, but it doesn't change the fact that you're asking me to let you date an adult when you are still a child. You can promise me you won't have sex with him and I'll believe you, but that's not the only issue here. There are reasons why that law exists, reasons that have to do with maturity and responsibility and letting children grow into themselves on their own terms. An earlier curfew isn't going to fix that."

Blue eyes lowered to the table as Roxas considered this, the mask of his face giving way to reveal his disappointment. Cloud watched his son struggle with sympathy but with little regret. He firmly believed that the red-headed asshole was the last person Roxas should be considering as a boyfriend, and, until recently, he had thought that Roxas agreed.

"Why do you even want to date him?" he asked, resisting the urge to finish off his beer and get another one. "So he drove you and Sora home from school once. Was that really enough to suddenly make him attractive?"

"It wasn't just that," Roxas answered, his eyes still averted. "He was really nice to us that day, but that's not what made me like him. If anything, it got me to stop hating him for long enough to realize that I did like him. I think …" He hesitated, pushing bits of macaroni salad around with his fork. "I think I've liked him since Christmas. If he hadn't been such an ass that night, we probably would have had this conversation months ago. He's … he's just …"

Suddenly, the fork came down with a clatter, and Cloud found himself staring into earnest blue eyes that were lit with an unmistakable fire. "Dad, he's immature and he sometimes doesn't know when a joke has gone too far, but he's really caring and selfless when it counts and I really want to give him a chance. Yes, the way he treated me before was borderline harassment, but I think he was just pulling my pigtails, you know? Part of it was him trying to get me to notice him and part of it was not understanding or being afraid of his feelings. Heck, if I was in my twenties and found myself liking a guy after liking girls my whole life … well, I wouldn't act like _that_ , but I wouldn't exactly be all cool with it either. And _what_ are you sniggering at, Sora?"

"Sorry, sorry, just found the thought of you with pigtails amusing, that's all."

Roxas gave his brother a frigid glare before turning his attention to Cloud once more. "The point is, Dad, that I like him and I want to be his boyfriend. I know our age difference is going to cause problems, but I want to at least try to get through them and make it work. If I'm going to regret something, I want it to be that I tried and failed. I don't want to regret never trying at all."

Sighing, Cloud cradled his head in the hand that wasn't holding his beer. Someone needed to write a parenting book that told you what to do when your kids starting using traditional parenting phrases against you in order to get what they wanted instead of what you wanted. "Roxas," he said pointedly, "the regrets I'm worried you'll end up having are more along the lines of permanent damage to your social and emotional growth. I realize you're a very mature fifteen, but still, you're _fifteen_. Any way you look at it, that's too young to be dating someone who's legally old enough to drink. I'm not saying you can't date him ever, just not now. If you want to date him once you graduate high school, fine, I won't say anything against it, but as your father, I really think that it's in your best interests to wait."

"Dad, please."

The plea was so soft, so pained, that for a moment Cloud couldn't believe that it was Roxas who had spoken it. But when he looked at his son's face, he saw the anguish there, the fear, and the helpless feeling of being swept away by something larger than he was. Those blue eyes that had seen so much, that could be so strong when necessary, were blinking back tears.

"Please, Dad," Roxas whispered, "I … I don't want to have to just … walk away from him."

It was like he was looking at himself. He could see himself reflected in those eyes. Standing on the ground floor in the stairwell of Squall's apartment complex, leaning against the wall, his arms wrapped around himself in a futile attempt to keep himself from falling apart. Crying, sobbing, near-screaming over the fact that he had just walked away from the man he loved. Wishing, yet not wishing, that Squall would come running after him, knowing that he wouldn't. Feeling his heart breaking within him and knowing that he had done it to himself.

Cloud rose from his seat and turned his back on Roxas, using the empty bottle in his hand as an excuse to walk away from the table for a moment. He kept his movements sharp and strong to imply disapproval, but they were all empty gestures and he knew it. That expression in Roxas's eyes had been too like Sora's, too like his own. The argument was over; the decision had been made.

When Cloud returned to the table, he thumped the second beer bottle down to get the boys' attention and pointed at his blond son for extra emphasis. "I reserve my approval until after I see you both together," he stated. "If he gives me even a hint of the attitude we saw at the party, I'm locking you in a tower until you turn thirty."

Roxas's face exploded with joy, and the next second, Cloud had his arms full as both boys leapt from their seats to tackle him.

"Thank you, Dad! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

And as anxious as Cloud still was about the whole thing, he couldn't help but smile.


	43. Tuesday

_Demyx_

In hindsight, he supposed that he could have just looked Zexion's contact information up in the store records, but that would have been a breach of trust and an abuse of power and Leon probably would have skinned him alive for it. So instead, he simply went back to the campus, retracing his steps from a few weeks prior until he stood outside the classroom door again, peeking in through the window and watching the teaching assistant wrap up his study session. The young man looked slightly thinner than Demyx remembered, a little more worn, and it made the musician wonder if Zexion was having as much trouble sleeping as he was.

He wasn't completely certain that Zexion was Echo, but it made an awful lot of sense. The graduate student was extremely smart, painfully shy, and emotionally withdrawn, all things he associated with Echo. He was also exceedingly meticulous, something that Demyx had noticed during their forced lunch date and now again as the assistant gathered up his papers to put them away. It was the kind of attention to detail that Demyx would believe was necessary to create the pictures that he had received and to deliver them so stealthily. The biggest reason why the musician believed he had found his secret penpal, however, was because of something at which Zexion himself would have scoffed. It simply felt right. He had been blinded to it before, but now when Demyx looked at Zexion, something in his heart told him that the young scientist and the mystery photographer were one and the same.

Yet in spite of his gut feeling, Demyx wasn't about to show his hand to the other man yet. He had learned from his previous mistakes. This time, he was going to take it slow and wait until he was certain before forcing a confrontation.

The students began filing out of the classroom, and Demyx waited patiently for them all to leave. Once the room was empty except for Zexion, he pushed the door open wide and walked in, purposely making enough noise to be noticed.

"Hi, Zexy!" he greeted, smiling brightly.

"Demyx," Zexion replied quietly. He looked suitably surprised to see the blond, but while his expression held traces of anxiety behind its blank exterior, Demyx was happy to see that there was no fear like last time. It seemed that this time Zexion would not try to run. "I didn't expect to see you here again."

In spite of the fact that he wasn't very good at it, Demyx had planned out at least the first part of this conversation ahead of time to prevent him from saying something he shouldn't. Scratching the back of his head, he attempted his best sheepish grin and said, "Yeah, well, I wasn't sure how to get in contact with you other than like this. I suppose I could have waited for you to come to the store, but who knows when that would have been?"

The chuckle that Zexion gave in response was completely unexpected and sent a small thrill shivering up the musician's back. "Knowing Professor Vexen," he commented in that same quiet tone of his, "probably a lot sooner than you would think."

"I guess so. But I didn't think of that, so here I am." He crossed the space between them, slowly so as not to frighten the other man, and once he was close enough, pulled two slips of paper from his pocket. "Here," he said, holding out one of them. "This is my email address. And I'd like yours, too, if you don't mind."

"My … email?" Zexion took the offered paper in one hand and stared at it as if it were a previously unseen specimen.

"Yeah," Demyx replied. "You know, so I don't have to show up here every time I want to talk to you or hang out with you." He offered the other piece of paper, the blank one, and pushed gently, "So, can I?"

Zexion, Demyx had realized, was extremely hard to read. At least half of his face was permanently hidden behind his hair, and he kept the other half as expressionless as he could. He also kept his voice quiet to hide his emotions and his body language tight and controlled. But Demyx was slowly learning to read those few signs that were there, the subtle ways the man held his body and the slight flickers of emotions that escaped through that one visible eye. Now, as he stood there with the blank paper in his hand, he watched the other man struggle with his uncertainty.

"I … suppose so." Pale fingers reached out for the paper, but a mere second later flinched back again. "Ah, but my handwriting is quite illegible," Zexion apologized, a slight flush rising into his cheeks. "Perhaps it would be better if I dictated it to you."

Demyx bit down on his grin. It was a simple excuse, one that would have meant nothing to someone else, but to him it spoke volumes. "Sure," he agreed without hesitation. "Not a problem." He dug out the pen he had put in his coat pocket and took down the address that Zexion told him.

"I'm on my lunch break again," he said as he replaced pen and paper into his pocket. "Are you available to join me?"

Again the hesitation, but this time Demyx could see a hint of regret laced within it. "Ah, no," the quiet man replied. "I'm sorry, Demyx, but I have something I have to do now. I would reschedule it if I could, but I'm afraid that is impossible."

"That's okay," the musician told him with a sincere smile. "I did show up without warning after all. We can do it next time."

Zexion nodded, the gratitude in his expression obvious. What he said next, though, made Demyx want to do a little dance of joy from the sheer possibilities it presented. "Thank you, Demyx. You are your cheerful, pleasant self as usual."

Maybe he imagined it, but he thought he saw the slightest bit of hurt in that single blue eye. The tiniest bit of pain that Demyx seemed to be coping so well with the removal of Echo from his life. However, even if he had imagined it, even if there was really nothing there to see, he wasn't about to let this opportunity pass by.

"I'm faking it actually," he admitted and watched as Zexion's eye widened slightly in surprise. "I've been pretty depressed the past few days, although I'm slowly starting to get better." He took a few steps backwards, digging out the paper that held the other man's email as he did so. "I'll tell you about it later," he said, waving the paper in the air to indicate his meaning. "I don't want to make you late to your other appointment."

As he turned away, he just barely saw Zexion reach for him with one tentative hand. By the time he reached the door and turned back, both of the man's hands were by his side again, but Demyx knew he had not imagined the small longing gesture or the shadows of sadness that had briefly invaded the quiet man's face.

"Bye, Zexy!" Demyx called from the door, his hand on the knob. "Let's set up a time where we can get together, okay?"

"Of course," Zexion replied, and even he could not hide all of the smile that crept into his thin lips. "I look forward to it, Demyx."

Grinning and not faking it in the slightest, Demyx turned the knob, pushed the door open, and exited into the hallway.

xXx

_Riku_

He decided the moment he woke up that he wasn't going to school today. He wasn't sick, and he wasn't planning on playing hooky. Still, there was somewhere else he needed to be today, and he wasn't going to wait until after school to go there.

"What are you dressed like that for?" Kadaj asked him when he came down to breakfast in a button-down shirt and a nicer pair of slacks. "You look ridiculous."

Riku ignored him as he went about getting his cereal and toast. As usual, Father had already left for the day. Considering how infrequently the man was at home, it was surprising that the Gast boys had such respectable attendance records. Perhaps if they weren't so concerned about what would happen if they were caught, they would have skipped more often.

"'Daj," Riku confirmed as he spread butter on his toast, "Loz taught you how to forge Dad's signature, right?"

His brother lifted a wary eyebrow at him over his glass of orange juice, but set it down and replied, "Yeah. I'm not as good as he is, but I'm better than Yazoo."

"As long as you're better than me. I need you to sign an absentee slip. What do you want for it?"

"What the hell? Are you _skipping_?"

The junior rolled his eyes as he joined the senior at the table. "Oh please," he sighed. "Like you've never skipped. Now what am I going to have to pay you to get that signature?"

Green eyes regarded him critically for a long moment. Again, they took in the shirt, Riku's neatly done hair, and the hollowness of his eyes. With an expression of careful consideration on his face, Kadaj rested his chin on one fist and said, "Tell me where you're going."

Riku frowned and shook his head. "You don't need to know that," he insisted. "Just tell me the price. What do you want me to do? Chores again? I'm not going to do your homework, so don't ask."

"My price," Kadaj interjected smoothly, "is that you tell me where you're going."

"Why do you care?"

"Who knows? I just do."

Huffing, Riku sat back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, and glared at his older brother. It wasn't so much that he didn't want to tell Kadaj where he was going; he just didn't think it was any of the other boy's business. He understood that his brother was worried about him, that he had been overwhelmingly depressed since Sora had broken up with him, but he was getting a little tired of the way Kairi and Kadaj hovered over him almost all of the time. Simply put, it was annoying.

Unfortunately, it looked like he didn't have a choice this time. "I'm going to visit Mom."

The answer didn't seem to surprise the other blond very much. "Tomorrow is Valentine's Day," he said in reply. "Tomorrow might be a better day to go."

"I'm going today," Riku insisted. He gave no other explanation. He wanted to see her today, and he didn't feel like waiting.

Kadaj nodded, seeming to understand. He took another drink of his orange juice, then rose from his chair and wandered over to the phone on the wall. Riku's mild suspicion turned to wonder as he listened to the older boy call up their school and report them both absent for the day. Kadaj turned his charm up to the maximum as he talked to the attendance desk secretary, describing how pathetically sick little Riku was and how Kadaj simply had to stay home as well to take care of him and yes, certainly, their father knew about it and approved. The woman swallowed all of the lies with ease, and before Riku had completely realized what had happened, his brother had hung up the phone and was crossing back to the table to pick up the last of his toast.

"Wait here a minute," he ordered, pointing a corner of crust at him for emphasis. "I'll be right back." He stuffed the rest of the bread into his mouth and hurried away, his footsteps pounding up the stairs a moment later.

When he returned, he sported a button-down as well, although Riku smirked to see that the older blond still wore his jeans.

"You're going, too?" he asked unnecessarily.

Kadaj just shrugged and cleared up his dishes. "It's been a while since I've paid my respects," he explained without meeting Riku's eyes. Riku said nothing more and finished his breakfast.

Slightly less than an hour later, Riku found himself walking slowly through the cemetery, a single rose held in his gloved hand and his brother following behind him like a shadow. The winter air bit into his lungs as he breathed, but he welcomed the pain. In a place like this, where all the world was still and lifeless, he felt grateful for the reminder that he was still alive. As much as he believed he didn't deserve to be, the knowledge that he was made the oppressive weight that rested on his shoulders a little easier to bear.

Her grave was just the same as it had been the last time he had seen it. The caretakers had kept it clean and free of leaves and twigs. The headstone was a little more worn than he remembered, but that was to be expected with the passage of time. Her name was still perfectly legible as were the dates, that second date screaming out at him like an accusation, making him shiver from a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

Gently, he laid the rose down at her feet. Beside him, Kadaj did the same. The flowers lay there together, two splashes of vibrant living color against the frozen earth.

"Hello, Mom," he said to her. "It's me, Riku."

He paused, waiting to see if Kadaj would say anything as well, but his brother had moved back a step and stayed silent. Grateful for his understanding, Riku closed his eyes and dipped his head for a moment to take a breath or two. Then, he returned his focus on the stone before him and began to talk.

"I'm sorry it's been a few years since I've come to see you. I know I should have. I thought about it several times, but I never did and I'm sorry. I'm sorry also for skipping school to come see you. I know you'd be mad at me if you were here. You'd scold me and tell me that school is the most important thing and I shouldn't miss it for anything except illness. Or at least …" He paused, closed his eyes in pain. "… that's what I'd imagine you'd do. That's what Moms are supposed to do."

Taking a quick breath, Riku shook the pain away and reopened his eyes. "This is important though, Mom," he told her, "so please forgive me for skipping out on school to be here. I think once you hear what I need to say, you'll understand. Because Moms do that, too, right? Understand and forgive.

"Mom, I'm in love. It's crazy, I know - me, in love - but it's true. And he's a guy, not a girl. I hope that's okay with you. I don't know what your opinion on same sex relationships is, whether you're okay with them or not. Unfortunately, all I can do is hope you are because there's no way I can change what my heart feels. I love him, Mom, and I couldn't fight it if I wanted to. His name is Sora, he's a year younger than me, and he's like sunshine personified. He's so cheerful and friendly, and he makes me feel happier than I ever have. When I was his boyfriend, I felt like I was someone special, someone important, and I felt like I could be myself, just myself, for the first time.

"But Mom, I …" Riku hung his head, fought the tears that welled up and threatened to fall. "I messed it up. I was stupid and scared, and I didn't believe in him, and I ruined it. I lied to him, and now he doesn't trust me and he doesn't want me. I apologized and I tried to make amends with him, but he won't forgive me and, truthfully, I don't blame him. I don't deserve to be forgiven. I ruined myself long before I met him. That's part of the reason why I stopped coming to see you. I didn't want you to see what I had done to myself, although I'm sure you already knew. It's pathetic, really. I knew what I was doing was stupid and I was too ashamed of myself to let you see me, and yet I didn't stop. I didn't have enough respect for myself to stop. And by the time I woke up and realized how badly I was hurting myself, it was too late."

Riku's arms wrapped around his body, protecting him both from the cold and the misery. The tears persisted, and one of them broke free from his closed eyes, slipped past his lashes, and slid down his face in a warm trail against his cold cheek. He knew that these next few words would be difficult to say, but he slowly forced them out. "Last night, as I went to bed, I kept thinking to myself how nice it would be if I never woke up. No one would have to worry about me anymore. No one would have to be ashamed of me anymore. I had already messed up my life beyond repair. It would really be for the best if I just didn't wake up. I knew, though, that it doesn't work like that. You can't just die because you want to. So I started thinking that maybe I should do it myself."

Next to him, Kadaj shifted, clearly uncomfortable. Riku bit his lip and held himself a little more tightly. He hadn't been comfortable with his suicidal thoughts either, but he had had them and he needed to share them. "Guess it just goes to show you how low I was, huh? But I really did believe, and have believed for a long time, that my life wasn't worth saving. I've managed to destroy everything good about my life, starting from the moment I was born. I've never accepted that that wasn't my fault, you know. Everyone always says that it wasn't, and I know that no one blames me, but still, it doesn't change the fact that you died because of me. If I hadn't been born, you would still be alive. I've never been able to forgive myself for that, and I've always been afraid, even though everyone told me not to be, that you resented me because of it."

He shifted on his feet, glanced up at the cloud-covered sky. "You know, it's funny. I've been doing this since I was, what, six? Coming here to visit you. Talking to you like you're really listening. We all do it, all four of us. And yet I don't think any of us believe that you're actually here. We don't believe in God or Heaven. We don't believe in the eternal soul. But we still come here and talk to you, still tell you what we're doing in school and how we're feeling and what our hopes and dreams and fears are. I think we do it more for ourselves than for any other reason. To comfort ourselves, make us feel like we still have a mother even though we know you're long gone.

"But you are here, aren't you?" he breathed, eyes lowered to the stone before him once more. "Maybe not _here_ here, maybe not beneath this ground, but you're somewhere. You're somewhere where you can feel me and touch my heart. Last night, I needed you, and you came to me. I didn't need to see your face to know that it was you holding me in my dreams. And I realized something this morning, Mom. I realized that my life is not worthless, and your death is the reason why. You gave your life for me; you traded your life for mine. If I kill myself, I make that sacrifice meaningless. I'd kill the both of us. I'm your legacy. All four of us are, but I'm the last one. I was your very last contribution to this world."

Smiling through his tears, Riku dropped his arms and squared his shoulders confidently. "I'm going to make you proud, Mom," he told her. "I've done a pretty shitty job up until now, but that's all going to change. From now on, I'm going to treat myself with respect and believe in myself as much as I can. I've lost my chance with Sora, and I'm going to have to accept that. I'll nurse my broken heart and I'll mourn and it'll probably take a very long time, but I'll eventually heal and be ready to love again. And next time - and there will be a next time, Mom, I believe that - I won't be ashamed of myself and I won't try to hide behind secrets and lies. I'll love openly and with everything I have.

"… And that's really all I wanted to say. Thank you, Mom, for not giving up on me. Even though I never knew you, I still love you, and I hope that wherever you are, you're happy."

Riku stepped back and, smiling, took a moment to just breathe. He felt Kadaj come up beside him, felt the older boy's hand on his shoulder as they stood side by side.

"Me too, Mom," Kadaj said quietly. "I have some things I want to tell you as well, but today was for 'Ku so I'll come back some other time. Don't worry about him. Loz, Yazoo, and I will take care of him for you. He'll be fine." His hand lifted to the top of Riku's head and mussed his hair viciously. "Won't you, 'Ku?" he teased.

Riku just punched him in the side.

They spent another few minutes in respectful silence before the older blond asked, "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," he replied.

"Good. It's fucking freezing out here."

Walking back to the car, Riku felt substantially lighter than before, as if he had left all his burdens at his mother's feet for her to care for in his place. He was still sad, still hurting inside, but he was smiling as well. The deep depression that had held him in its grip for so many days had eased. He knew it would still be some time before he would crawl out of the depths of this emotional hole, but at least he was now looking upwards and climbing instead of languishing at the bottom without hope.

"Hey, 'Ku," Kadaj said to him once they had climbed into the car, "don't give up on Sora just yet."

"I have to," Riku replied quietly. He stripped off his gloves and held his frozen fingers in front of the vent to warm them up more quickly. Sadly, he admitted, "He's not going to forgive me. Roxas said as much, didn't he? That Sora doesn't forgive liars."

His brother shifted the car into reverse and began pulling out of the parking space. "Yeah," he replied, "but Kairi said she and Roxas have been working on that." The gears shifted again, and they were moving forward, on their way back home. "I think you have more of a chance than you think you do. Just don't give up completely yet, okay?"

Riku sighed and gazed out the window. "I guess. I do feel better knowing that Roxas is trying to help, too, but still, you can't force someone to feel a certain way. I really think I messed up beyond repair with Sora."

"Kairi isn't giving up," Kadaj commented, so lowly that Riku almost didn't hear.

"Yeah, but Kairi is a force of nature. She's something else."

"She is pretty amazing, isn't she?"

Surprised at his brother's soft tone, Riku glanced over at Kadaj. The other boy was concentrating on the road, his expression blank and closed off, but Riku thought he saw the slightest bit of unease and indecisiveness in that angular profile. "She really is," he probed gently, hoping that the other would take it as permission to continue.

Kadaj said nothing for a long minute, only the twitching of his fingers and the slightest flickers in his eyes telling Riku that he was hesitating. Finally, he brushed one hand quickly through his hair and asked casually, "You going to take her to Yuffie's wedding?"

The question surprised Riku a bit, but he answered it truthfully. "I was thinking about it, yeah. I don't have anyone else to take, and I think she'd enjoy it. Girls usually love weddings."

"Mind if I take her instead?"

Kadaj's face was telling him nothing, yet Riku was starting to realize what was going on. "I guess not," he replied slowly.

"And, you know," his brother continued, "if I decide to take her out some weekend for dinner or something, to thank her for everything she's done for you recently, you wouldn't mind that, would you?"

"'Daj," Riku said in growing disbelief, "are you asking me if you can da-"

"Shut up!" Kadaj snapped, and now he was the brother Riku recognized. His face was flushed and his eyes were flashing, and it looked like he was seconds away from breaking someone's head open. "I'm just trying to be considerate here! I mean, she's like your sister, right? You should be grateful that I'm thinking of your feelings! So stop laughing at me, dammit!"

"I'm not laughing at you," Riku replied, hoping that by staying calm he could calm the other boy down, too. "I'm extremely surprised and will admit that I never saw this coming, but I'm not laughing." He waited a moment until it looked like Kadaj was a little more stable and then asked, "Does she like you?"

"I …" Kadaj faltered. "I don't know. I think so, but …" He ran his hand through his hair again, this time pulling some forward so it hid part of his face. "I don't know," he whispered.

Astonished, Riku leaned back in his seat and considered all of this. Kairi and Kadaj. His best friend and his brother. At first glance, the combination seemed beyond bizarre. However, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Kairi understood how his family worked. She, like Yuffie, understood that the Gast boys were not who they projected themselves to be. And she had never been afraid of Kadaj, had never been afraid to stand up to him. She, more than anyone else, would be able to keep him in line. And Kadaj, for all his insanity, had a caring heart inside him. He would treat her well and would protect her, both physically and emotionally. As bizarre as the idea first seemed, they probably would make an extremely good couple.

Riku looked at his brother's half-hidden profile for a long moment. Then, solemnly, he declared, "You hurt her, you die."

Shocked, Kadaj gaped at him, green eyes wide and, in Riku's opinion, off of the road for far too long. One nail-biting moment later, however, he had recovered and returned his attention to the space in front of him with a little smirk on his lips. "Well, of course," he replied flippantly. Riku knew, though, just how completely thrilled he was with the younger boy's approval.

They drove the rest of the way home in mutually-satisfied silence.

xXx

Dear Zexion,

Hi! This is Demyx in case you didn't know. :) I'm so glad I got your email from you today. It's so nice to be able to talk to you this way instead of waiting for you to come into the store. I don't really like waiting, which probably isn't all that surprising to hear. XP

So, when do you think you'll be available to have lunch again? That was really fun last time, and I'd like to do it again. Just hanging out would be fun, too, but everything is better when there's food involved, right? I get a regularly scheduled lunch break every day, so it really depends on when you're available. Now that I think about it, you must be really busy. I mean, you teach classes, take your own classes, and do work for Professor Vexen on top of your own schoolwork and any grading that you have to do. When do you have time for yourself? I think I'd go crazy if I had that much responsibility. You must be really smart and super organized and everything I'm not. LOL.

Oh hey, speaking of being smart, you know what? I tried reading one of those Ansem books of yours. The virtual reality one. Holy big words, Batman! I had to have a dictionary right next to me when I was reading it, and I still only got a few pages in before my head started to hurt and my eyes started to go all wonky. I know I'm not exactly a rocket scientist or anything, but I'm not a dumb blond either. I've read my fair share of difficult books. That one was too much for me, though. My respect for you has gone up astronomically. *bows to you*

Anyway, I promised you some details on why I've been feeling down lately. The simplest explanation is that I had a falling out of sorts with a friend who was very special to me. I've tried to make up with him several times, but he's decided to pull away completely and hasn't shown any sign of coming back any time soon, if at all. I really miss him, too. He's a really wonderful person, someone I cherished having in my life, and not having him anymore has been really hard for me. At this point, though, all I can do is hope that he'll come back on his own. If it would do any good, I'd willingly chase him all over the world, but I have the feeling that wearing through iron shoes isn't the solution in this case. I haven't quite figured out what the solution is yet, but I'm working on it. I'm hurting while I'm working on it, but I'm working on it.

Talking to you, though, definitely cheered me up today. I'm really looking forward to spending some more time with you and getting to know you better. I have a feeling we're going to have a great friendship. You probably think I'm crazy making a statement like that when we barely know each other and we have so little in common, but trust me, my instincts are good like that. :) And you'll find I make a good friend. A bit on the chatty side (shocker!) but definitely loyal and supportive.

Anyway, I should sign off and go back downstairs to help Leon get ready to close up the store. (I was on dinner break and eating my mac and cheese while checking my email - don't tell Leon, he'll get all pissy at me for having food near the computer.) Write back to me and tell me when you can get together, 'k?

See ya, Zexy!

Demyx

xXx

Hello, Demyx.

I will be available for lunch Thursday. Would you like to meet at the sandwich shop we patronized before? Is 12:30 an acceptable time? If so, please send me a quick response, and I will make sure to be there. Please allow me to treat you this time. While it is true I am on a stipend, I am financially secure at the moment and can certainly afford to purchase an extra meal.

I congratulate you on attempting to read Ansem's work. He is most certainly a difficult read, and it is rare that someone who has not studied in his field, as I have, can understand his theories. Do not feel disappointed or discouraged that you were not able to conquer him. If you would like to read more on the same subject but written in a clearer manner, I can happily recommend another author for you. I must admit it would be pleasurable to discuss my chosen field of study with you. While I would certainly not expect you to be as well-versed as I am, I would enjoy hearing your thoughts on such matters. Perhaps you would bring a fresh perspective on a subject that I, due to over-exposure and frequent analysis, find old and dull.

I await your response in regards to Thursday.

Zexion

xXx

I should so be in bed right now. I'm so tired. Long day. Very long day. But had to check email and see if Zexy wrote back and you did and I'm so happy! Yes, Thursday at 12:30 at Quina's would be fantastic! You remember where it is, right? I sure hope you do since you suggested it. If you need directions, let me know.

Now need to go to bed. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

G'night, Zexy!

Demyx

xXx

Demyx crawled into bed that night with a huge smile on his face. Tomorrow, he would have to remember to print out the email from Zexion and add it to the end of his collection of photographs and letters. It may be silly of him - Leon would certainly say so - but he couldn't help himself. Every single word that Echo sent him was a gift to be treasured.


	44. Wednesday

_Sora_

He hadn't meant to do this on Valentine's Day. It seemed a little cheesy, even to him. But Riku had been absent yesterday, and the extra day to think had convinced him that he didn't want to wait until tomorrow. So Valentine's Day it would have to be.

He already knew that he wouldn't be able to do it during the school day itself. The only time he and Riku could spend a decent amount of time together was at lunch, and it was just too hectic and too noisy to do something like this then, even if they could find a private table or slip off into the hall together. So he let the day go by as usual, attending classes and talking to friends as if this day were like any other. By the time the final bell rang, he had received a couple of cards from romantic-minded girls and a box of candy hearts from Rikku, but he himself had given nothing but smiles and cheerful words.

During after-school play practice, he sat in his seat in the auditorium and waited for Larxene to require his participation. He knew better than to try to grab Riku and slip off somewhere for a conversation. For one thing, Larxene had Riku onstage for nearly an hour straight, mostly due to the fact that he had been absent the day before. For another, his own part was rather large, and he never knew just when his director would need him. The last thing he wanted to have happen was begin this conversation only to have it interrupted or cut short. So again, he patiently allowed the time to pass by in its normal fashion.

And then Larxene was calling them all together, going over notes and discussing what scenes they would be rehearsing the following day. His hand held tightly in his brother's, Sora scanned the surrounding seats for Riku, finding him with little trouble. As their director finished up and wished them all a good night, he squeezed Roxas's hand briefly for luck and support. Roxas squeezed back, and then they were rising to their feet with the rest of the students, moving in separate directions but with similar purposes.

His steps took him straight to Riku's side. Busy with his bag, the junior didn't see him coming.

"Riku."

Round green eyes stared up at him in obvious surprise. Taken off guard as he was, it took a moment for the other boy to respond.

"Sora."

The last little bits of hesitation snaked through his chest, and Sora paused, head tilted slightly to one side, to simply look at Riku. This boy before him had changed his life so much. He had made him so very happy, had treated him with such love and kindness, and had since day one been a perfect boyfriend. He had filled his heart to overflowing with every small gesture and had set his body on fire with every lingering touch. This boy had made him feel special, made him feel confident and attractive. When he was with him, he had felt like he could do anything he wanted, and everything he wanted to do, he wanted to do it with this boy at his side.

But this boy had lied to him about his unsavory past. This boy had tried to hide from him and in the process had hurt him. He had fractured their trust with his own words and actions, had caused him immeasurable pain and doubt. Even now, when he looked at this boy, he wasn't completely sure he wasn't being tricked and lied to by a master actor and deceiver. Apologies had been given and promises had been made, but having been hurt once, he wasn't entirely able to believe in them.

Still, he couldn't deny that he was in love with this boy, and the only way to find out if the boy loved him would be to open his heart a second time. He would probably have doubts and hesitations for a long time, but now it was time to push past them.

"Riku," Sora said, "I want to talk to you."

Riku continued to stare at him in stunned disbelief, his fingers nervously playing with the zipper of his bookbag. "Um … o-okay," he stammered. "Wh-what do you - ?"

"Not here," Sora interrupted him with a little smile that caused Riku's eyes to widen even further. He turned slightly and ordered over his shoulder, "Follow me."

He wandered backstage, Riku following, into a section of the wings that didn't lead anywhere else and therefore would likely be rather private. After finding a suitably secluded area, he made himself comfortable against the wall and turned to regard the older boy. Riku looked like he didn't know whether to be hopeful or afraid, and the result made him look extremely pale and rather like he was about to fall over at any moment.

Sora fought back another smile, not wanting to appear too friendly too soon. Instead, he leveled his gaze on the boy before him and began the speech that, thanks to Riku's absence, he had had an extra day to prepare. "Riku, when we were going out, there was a moment where we apparently had a major misunderstanding. Do you remember it?"

The blond swallowed heavily and nodded his response.

"I asked you about your romantic experiences before me," Sora continued, "and you said I was your first. Later, you said that since I had used the word 'relationship' you were telling me the truth. Before you met me, you were extremely sexually promiscuous, but none of them were 'relationships' so you didn't feel the need to tell me about any of them. Yet it was pretty obvious that I was asking about your experiences in general. I was asking about those sexual encounters you didn't tell me about, and you knew it and chose to ignore it. I believed you when you said I was your first, and so when I finally found out about these other experiences, I felt lied to and betrayed. I felt that you had intentionally broken the trust I placed in you."

Riku winced at these words and shrank into himself. The sight pulled a bit on Sora's heart, but he pressed forward, determined to get through this as quickly and cleanly as possible. If they were going to move forward, they needed to put everything on the table, right here, right now.

"Riku," he said, meeting green eyes firmly, "I'm going to ask you some questions now, and I'm going to trust in you that you'll answer them truthfully. Are you willing to answer these questions for me?"

The boy before him didn't move for an astonished moment; then he took a visible breath, straightened up, lifted his head, and said, "Yes."

"How many girls have you slept with in the past two years?"

"I honestly don't know. About thirty or forty. Maybe more."

Sora's heart constricted painfully at the admission, but he didn't let it affect his expression or his voice. "How many boys have you slept with in that time?"

"None."

"Did you use protection for all of them?"

"Yes."

"Is there any chance that any of them are pregnant?"

"No. If any of them were, I would know by now."

"Is there any chance you contracted a disease from any of them?"

"No. I get tested regularly. I haven't slept with anyone since my last test returned clean."

Sora paused. As unpleasant as those questions had been, they were the easy ones. Now they got harder. Harder to answer and harder to ask.

"How many of those girls were you romantically interested in?"

"None." While hearing that was a relief, it also hurt. How could Riku sleep with someone if he had no interest in her?

"How many were romantically interested in you?"

"I have no idea. A couple. But they never pursued it. They were always interested in being the one who saved me, and when they found out they couldn't, they gave up." An understandable answer. Lots of girls were attracted to bad boys so that they could turn them into good boys.

"What about the girls you seduced?"

"No. I seduced them on a physical level. It was always about sex, never about love." Again, that was as comforting as it was painful. The Riku of before sounded so different from the Riku he knew and loved. As much as he wanted to believe his Riku was the real one, it was so hard to accept that someone could change so drastically so quickly, and he didn't really have enough self-confidence yet to believe that Riku had done it solely for him.

"Have you slept with anyone I know?" When it looked like Riku was having trouble with that one, he suggested, "Not Kairi, obviously, but Yuna? Rikku? Paine?"

"I slept with Paine once," he answered. "We were both curious about what being with the other would be like. She's not a slut like …" he faltered, eyes falling, "… like I was … but she's had some experience. She tends to date college guys, so … you know," he finished lamely.

Sora nodded, able to accept that. He prepared himself to change tracks again. These questions would be easier, but their answers were immeasurably important.

"Riku, do you love me?"

Riku's eyes snapped to him, suddenly strong as if their green depths had been reinforced with fire-tempered steel.

"Yes."

"Is it true that you haven't slept with anyone since you first saw me in October, since before we met in December?"

"Yes."

"Are you willing to put aside all your sexual needs and engage in a purely sex-free relationship until I say I'm ready to move forward?"

That, to Sora, was the big one, and Riku answered it immediately. "Yes."

"Do you promise that you will never lie to me again, that you will never twist the truth or hide something from me that you know I want to know?" He allowed a little smirk to take over his face as he added, "Other than birthday and Christmas presents, of course."

The unexpected levity made Riku laugh out loud, and when he met Sora's eyes again, he was smiling brightly. "Yes, Sora," he answered. "I promise."

"And is there anything," Sora finished, "anything at all, Riku, that you haven't told me or that you've hidden from me that I should know?"

The other boy paused appropriately, giving the question serious thought and replaying in his head all the conversations they had had up until then. "No," he finally said. "I don't think there is. And if I think of something later, I promise I'll tell you right away."

That was that then. His questions had been answered; all that was left was to believe. That, of course, was the hardest part, especially considering how many times he had invested trust in someone only to have it shattered or crushed. But Kairi and Roxas were right. Riku was only human, and humans make mistakes. Sora had certainly made plenty of them in his fifteen years. He would be a hypocrite and a fool to expect forgiveness from others but never give any himself. And Leon was right, too. Love may not conquer all and "happily ever after" may not exist, but it was still a precious and beautiful thing. As long as he had it, Sora knew he would have the strength to keep fighting for the future he wanted.

Smiling, Sora looked up at Riku and whispered, "Then I forgive you."

The other boy stood there in shock, eyes wide and disbelieving. "Really?" he whispered back. "You do?"

Rather than answer, Sora pushed off of the wall and took the step that closed the distance between them. Gently, he slipped his arms around the taller boy's shoulders, letting one hand fall loose while the other lifted to run fingers through soft hair and cup the back of his head. Leaning his body into Riku's, he lifted his chin and softly kissed the lips that he pulled down to meet his. He kept the pressure feather-light, the gesture chaste and so sweet that it made the other boy whimper quietly in the back of his throat from the sheer purity of it. He could feel Riku shaking slightly, and when he pulled back and gazed up at those green eyes, they shimmered at him with unshed tears of happiness and relief. The other boy's arms hovered inches from his body, wanting to hold him but still unsure, still afraid to believe.

Sora smiled at him, eager to ease his mind. "I love you, Riku," he confessed. "My heart belongs to you. Please don't break it again."

Riku choked, his arms grabbing onto the smaller boy's frame tightly and his head lowering to bury his face in Sora's neck. "I won't," he replied, his voice muffled by soft skin and sobs. "I swear I won't. Oh Sora, I … Thank you so much. I promise you I … I won't … Sora …"

Tears forming in his own eyes, Sora held Riku's shaking body and smiled to himself. In this moment, he didn't care that Riku had hurt him before, and he certainly didn't care about who or what the boy had once been. Right now, all that mattered was that he was in Riku's arms again. No matter what had happened before or what would happen in the future, he loved this boy with all his heart.

xXx

_Kairi_

He had been right here. She had seen him. Hell, his _stuff_ was still here. So what had happened to him and where was he now?

Kairi turned in a circle a second time, scanning the entire auditorium for any sign of her best friend, and for a second time, she found no trace of him. Frustrated, she balled her fists on her hips and gave the seat in front of her a small kick. All she had done was turn to talk to Rikku and Yuna for a few minutes, and she had lost him. Really, the boy was beyond infuriating sometimes.

"Hey," a voice said behind her. She turned to it, finding blond hair and green eyes but entirely the wrong face.

"Hey, Kadaj," she said dismissively before returning to her futile scan of the room.

"The hell?" he asked, leaning over a nearby seat to try to look into her face. "What kind of a hello is that?" When she answered with only a half-shrug, he snorted and turned away. "Where's 'Ku?" he asked. "I'm here to take him home."

"Darned if I know," she answered and ignored his little snigger at her failed attempt to swear. "All I did was take my eyes off him for a second, and he disappears."

"Well it is Valentine's Day," the senior beside her commented. "Maybe he's off on some secret rendezvous, receiving a passionate love confession."

"Or maybe you're full of baloney," she retorted, making him laugh yet again. Tired of the search, she shrugged her bag off of her shoulders and plopped it on the seat next to Riku's. "Well, anyway, he left his stuff here, so he'll be back. I guess I'll just wait."

"You don't need to wait. I'm the one taking him home."

"No, I do." She opened a side pocket of her bag and reached in for one of the two packages she had stored there. As her fingers closed around it, a wave of hesitation swept over her. Every other year, she had only brought one, but this year, as she stood in the store deciding which one to buy, she had had the urge to get two. She had to admit she was nervous about what his reaction would be, especially since she had never done this before, but for some reason she really wanted to do it this year and she wasn't about to back out now. Determined, she pulled it from the bag.

"Here," she said, holding out the small box of chocolates to Kadaj. "Happy Valentine's Day."

For about ten seconds, his green eyes just stared at the box like he had never seen one before. Then they lifted and stared at her. "Is this for me?" he asked.

Embarrassment was eating her from the inside out, but she wasn't about to let him know that. "Duh," she answered, rolling her eyes a little. "I have one for Riku, too, but he's not here right now so I thought I'd give you yours."

Slowly, his hand lifted and took the box from her. "Thanks," he said, his face still completely expressionless. "I don't have anything for you, though."

Kairi looked down, pretending to dig for something in her bag as a way to hide her rapidly reddening face. "Yeah, I know," she replied breezily. "You Gasts don't do Valentine's Day. That's fine. I don't mind. I'm used to it."

They stayed together in silence for a few minutes, Kairi eventually abandoning the fake search in her bag and sitting down in the seat instead. Kadaj continued to lean against the back of a different chair, turning the box of chocolates over and over in his hands like he didn't know exactly what to do with it. Then, he straightened suddenly and, rather than go out to the aisle and back in like a normal person, proceeded to climb over the chair to sit down in the same row as she was in, the seat with Riku's bag in it between them.

"Hey," he said once he had settled, "do you know our friend Yuffie?"

Kairi thought for a minute before answering, "Is she the one who works in the bookstore, the one your cousin owns?"

"That's the one," Kadaj answered. He turned to face her and flashed her his normal manic grin. "She's getting married in a month, and all four of us have been invited. You wanna be my date?"

Surprised, Kairi inspected his face and wondered why he had suddenly retreated behind his most comfortable mask. To buy a little bit of time, she clarified, "You're asking me to go to this wedding with you?"

That manic grin did not falter. "That's right. What do you say?"

It was certainly strange. Not the fact that Kadaj was inviting her, more the way in which he was doing it. A wedding, to Kairi, was like a school formal. If you had a significant other or had a particular person in mind you wanted to fill that role, then you would ask him or her. If you didn't have someone like that or if the person you wanted was already taken, you asked a good friend, someone with whom you could just relax and have fun. She could easily accept that she was that sort of person for Kadaj, although she would have thought he'd ask someone else first. Yet the presence of the manic mask surprised her. It meant he was hiding from her, and, after all the time they had spent together over the past few weeks, she couldn't understand why.

A small movement suddenly caught her eye, and Kairi looked down to see that Kadaj was still fiddling with the box of chocolates, now turning it idly in one hand rather than flipping it end over end in both. She had never bothered to get the older Gast Valentine chocolate before. Riku had gotten one from her for years now, but this had been the first time she had bought a second box. Those nervous movements of his could just be because he didn't know what to do with the thing, or, she realized with an internal smile, they could be happening for the same reason that he was hiding behind his mask as he asked her to be his date. The same reason why she had felt compelled to buy that box in the first place and why she had felt a ball of warmth in her stomach every time she thought of giving it to him.

Carefully, so as not to startle him, she reached out and took the box from him. His eyes flashed with momentary hurt, but they cleared when she shifted Riku's bag out of the way so that she could sit next to him instead.

"Are you sure you want me?" she asked lightly, beginning to peel away the red paper that covered the little rectangle box and the quartet of chocolates inside.

It wasn't the first time she had been this close to him, but usually those times included her trying to strangle him or some other violent or irritated feelings. This was the first time she had been this close with the intention of being gentle and intimate. It surprised her at how easy it felt to be in his personal space, at how comfortable it felt. And she knew he felt the same way. She didn't look up at him, choosing instead to focus on unwrapping the candy, but she could feel his eyes on her from above, could _feel_ the mask falling away as he inhaled slowly and steadily.

"Yeah," he said in answer to her question.

Kairi lifted her head and smiled into the calm green eyes that gazed down at her. She lifted the box, the lid and top paper removed, and offered him a chocolate as she said, "Then I'd love to."

He blinked at her for a moment, processing her smile and the unspoken words behind them. Then, he smiled as well and plucked a candy from the box.

"Good. I'm glad."

She settled back in her seat and, not caring that she had bought the chocolates for him, took one for herself and said, "Me too."

xXx

_Roxas_

The second Sora let go of his hand, Roxas was on his way backstage, looking for Axel. He knew the red-head had been having a meeting with his lighting guys while Larxene finished up with the actors, and he wanted to make sure he cornered the man before he could escape. Yesterday's practice had been slightly awkward, mainly because Roxas was itching to talk to Axel but had promised Sora not to do it until the other boy could talk to Riku. The junior's unexpected absence had irritated Roxas so badly that he had been tempted to go over to Riku's house and, regardless of what the boy had that was keeping him home, drag him to school himself.

By the time he reached the backstage wings, the tech meeting had broken up, but Axel was still there, chatting with Gippal. Roxas respected their conversation and didn't intrude, but he found a place to wait in plain sight and trained his eyes on Axel in a way that could not be misinterpreted. The red-head flinched slightly when he saw him but that was his only reaction. A few minutes later, the conversation between the two techs wound down, and Gippal said good-bye to Axel, waving at Roxas briefly as he walked towards the front of the stage and the auditorium.

"Well, if it isn't my Roxy-baby!" Axel cried as Roxas approached him. "What can I do for the girl of my dreams today?"

The man was trying to distract him by riling him up. Well, it wasn't going to work today. "You and I need to talk," Roxas stated. "Now."

A mild wince, but this one seemed more resigned than fearful. "Yeah, that's what I thought you were going to say," Axel sighed. He motioned for Roxas to follow him and walked towards the ladder that led up to the lighting equipment. "Let's go somewhere a bit more private for this, shall we?"

It wasn't exactly the location Roxas had expected, but he had no complaints. Wordlessly, he followed Axel up the ladder, steadfastly refusing to notice how those long legs looked as they climbed the rungs with familiar agility. Once he reached the top, he accepted Axel's hand to help him up on the landing and then seated himself in one of the folding chairs, far enough away that he could see all of the red-head's expressions and body language but close enough that he could tackle him and kiss him senseless should the situation warrant.

"Hey, there's Sora," Axel noted as he took his own seat and looked down into the opposite wings. "And is that Riku with him?"

"Should be," Roxas answered. He took a moment to silently wish his brother luck with his own confrontation.

Axel laughed shortly and leaned back in his chair. His eyes roamed lazily over Roxas, although the blond could tell he wasn't really looking at him. "You two do everything together, don't you?" he asked.

Rather than answer that, Roxas decided to dive right in and get this thing started already. "Axel, when you met me last Christmas, you told me you weren't gay, and yet Monday when I kissed you, you kissed back, and while I may not be the most experienced kid out there, it sure felt to me like you meant it. So which is it? Are you gay and interested in me, or are you straight and just wasting my time?"

"Babe, let me assure you, no time you spend with me is ever a waste."

Sighing, Roxas bit back his irritated retort and instead said, "Can I just remind you that we're about a storey off the ground right now, and while we both fought Seifer and Rai, when I put them down they _stayed_ down."

Axel blinked at him. "Roxy!" he mock-gasped. "Is that a threat?"

"Answer the damn question, Axel!"

"All right, all right," the man sighed, finally dropping the attitude. He sat back in his folding chair and ran a hand through his hair. "The answer is I don't know. I'm not gay because up until now I've only been interested in women. But I'm definitely interested in you. So I don't know what that makes me." He grinned a little and waggled his eyebrows, attempting once again to lighten the mood. "Roxas-sexual, maybe?"

"Do you have any idea how stupid and overused that phrase is?" the blond asked him.

"Sorry."

Roxas shook his head at him, but internally he was quite pleased. Axel had just admitted to being interested in him. While he had strongly suspected this from day one, it was still rather thrilling to hear it confirmed. "All right, well, I've talked to my dad, and while he hasn't exactly given us permission to date yet, he did say that -"

"No."

That single, two-letter word was like a slap in the face. It physically forced Roxas back a bit and left him open-mouthed and blinking.

"What?" he finally managed to ask after several failed attempts.

"I said no," Axel repeated, not looking at him. "I'm not going to date you."

It made no more sense the second time. "Why not? I like you back, you know, just in case that kiss wasn't clear enough."

"It was clear enough," Axel stated in jarringly empty tones, "but it doesn't matter. We're not going to have a relationship."

What started out as surprise and disbelief was rapidly turning into annoyance, and Roxas found himself wondering just when the world had turned upside down on him. Frowning, he crossed his arms over his chest and asked, "Care to explain why?"

"Because you're fifteen."

"Oh for the love of - !" He slammed a hand down on one of the consoles and, ignoring Axel's twitch of dismay at this display of violence against one of his girls, replied hotly, "There is more to a relationship than sex, you know. I am perfectly capable of dating someone without automatically jumping into bed with him, and so, Axel, should you be."

The implied accusation seemed to put a little life back into the red-head, for he leaned forward in his chair and scratched at his hair with one hand. "This is about more than just sex, Roxas," he complained tiredly.

"Then what is it about?"

"It's about … well, it's about responsibility and maturity and the fact that I'm seven years older than you are."

Roxas couldn't believe this was happening. With the way Axel had been following him and harassing him all this time, he had thought the man would jump at the chance to date him properly. He had thought the only battle he would have to fight would be the one that he had already fought and won, the battle with his father. Once he had won that, it was supposed to be easy. So why was he still the only one doing all the work?

"You realize I've already had this conversation," he said flatly. "With my dad. I have one of those, Axel. I have a parental figure. You don't need to be one for me."

Axel sighed and started to protest with a mild, "Roxas …" but he stopped suddenly and seemed to mentally back-pedal. "Wait a minute," he eventually said. "You talked to your dad? About me? About …" He waved one hand back and forth between their bodies to indicate the unsaid.

Roxas rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to lean over and thwack the idiot for not listening. "Yes, Axel, I did. And we talked about responsibility and maturity and the fact that you're seven years older than I am. We also talked about social growth and emotional development and other child psychology crap, and the end result is that while he isn't going to officially approve us until he can see us together and make sure you're actually as serious about this as I am, he also isn't going to murder you and send me to a convent."

This information seemed to stop Axel's brain for a good thirty seconds. "This is your dad we're talking about," he asked when he could speak again. "Blond guy, lots of muscles. Pinned me against a wall last Christmas for bugging you. We are talking about the same guy, right?"

Sighing, Roxas rested his elbow on a console and leaned his head into his hand. At this point, he figured, he could either go into full-blown rage at the guy or go the bemused route instead. He decided the second one would be better for his blood pressure; it also wouldn't result in a dead almost-boyfriend. "Yes, Axel," he answered. "Same guy."

"And as long as I prove to him that I'm serious about you and about our relationship, he'll let me date you?"

"I'll have a ridiculously early curfew and some other restrictions until I'm of legal age, but yes, that's right."

"And the guy's older than I am," Axel muttered to himself, turning slightly away from Roxas and towards the consoles. "And the guy's his _father_. I mean, come on. If his dad's okay with it, why am I worried? Right, girls?" he grinned at the array of switches before him. "Okay, yeah, if it's just me and Roxy, I have to be the adult and say no, but if there's another adult, one that's more adult than I am, and he says yes, what's the problem?"

"There is no problem," Roxas answered on behalf of the knobs and sliding bars. He lifted his head and leaned forward a bit, ready to finalize this. "So, are we all set? Am I your boyfriend now?"

Green eyes shot to him in sudden worry, and Roxas knew even before Axel said anything that no, they were not all set.

"Wait. I have one condition."

"A condition?" he echoed, surprised.

"Yes." The red-head turned in his chair again, this time facing Roxas completely with a serious expression. He leaned his elbows on his knees, hands dangling down between them, and fixed his eyes firmly on the blond's. "I am interested in you, Roxas, and I would very much like to date you and see if we could make it work as a couple. However, I have to insist that we wait until after the show is over, and then, assuming we survive that long, you have to agree not to be involved in it next year in any way, not even crew."

Now completely stunned, Roxas sat back in his seat and stared. "Why?" he asked.

"Because right now," Axel answered, "I'm your faculty advisor. That essentially makes me a teacher, and if you think our relationship is going to be messy because of our age differences, babe, I'm telling you that that's _nothing_ compared to what it would be if we add in the teacher/student thing. Plus, that would rope in Larxene and Marluxia, and I'm not throwing them under the bus no matter how attracted to you I am. So that's my condition. We can date starting in May, and as long as we're together, you can't be involved in any school show that I'm doing tech for."

Roxas was impressed. He had seen Axel's serious side before, when he was helping take care of Sora, but this focused, forward-thinking persona was something new. In this moment, the red-head was actually acting like the adult he was supposed to be, and Roxas felt an unmistakable rush of warmth and heat take over his body. He had the terrible urge to throw himself across the small loft into Axel's lap and devour him whole. Unfortunately, that would not do much to prove that he had enough self-control to last until May to say nothing of the next two and half years.

"If that's what you want, then that's fine with me," he replied to Axel's condition. "Until the show is over, we're just friends."

"Friends," Axel echoed with a little half-smile. He shook his head and gazed out over the stage below. "Just last week, I thought you couldn't stand me."

"I couldn't for a long time," Roxas admitted. When those eyes looked at him again, he offered them a smile and continued, "Once you dropped the act, though, and showed me who you really are, I realized that you're a pretty cool guy."

The smile that Axel gave him in return was, surprisingly, a little sad. "The act is part of who I am, Rox," he told him. "It's not something I put on just for you. If you're really serious about being my boyfriend, you'll have to get used to it."

Somehow, that didn't surprise Roxas as much as Axel probably thought it would. "I kind of figured that out," he replied with a little shrug. "And I guess I am used to it now. Used to it enough to not let it blind me to the rest of you."

Silence fell, and Roxas didn't know what else to say. His desire to kiss Axel, to at least touch the man, was growing, however, so he soon rose to his feet and moved to the ladder before it could overwhelm him. "I guess I should get going."

"Probably for the best," the other replied. "Before I grab you and do something I'd regret later."

Amused, Roxas glanced over at the red-head and found him smirking at him, his eyes twinkling with lusty mischief. "You are a pervert," he joked.

"Maybe," the other answered, "but I'm sexy and you love it."

Shaking his head, Roxas swung himself out onto the ladder and started the climb down. He had the feeling that it was going to be a _long_ three months.


	45. Thursday

_Zexion_

He couldn't believe this. It was completely inconceivable. He was sitting in his morning seminar, listening to Lexaeus give a very interesting presentation on thermal and electro-magnetic cranial studies, and he _could not concentrate_. Power point slides went by one after the other, but he found himself looking at the clock more often than at them. Words kept slipping through his mind and escaping into the void, and more than once he realized he had missed several entire sentences. It was unbelievable, unacceptable, and he couldn't stop it from happening.

It was Demyx's fault.

Zexion had been entirely unable to stop thinking about the blond musician and the fact that they were scheduled to meet in only a couple of hours. Although he would never go to the lengths of describing himself as frightened, he was rather nervous. He had fully intended, after breaking off communication with Demyx and closing the post box, to pursue a friendship with the other man in the hopes that Demyx would eventually fall for him instead of for his alias of Echo. However, he had wanted to do it on his terms and at his pace. Even though he most certainly should have known better, he hadn't expected Demyx to show up on his own and push Zexion into a move for which he wasn't sure he was ready.

He should have been happy about it. Demyx obviously held Zexion in higher regard than he had suspected which boded well for his eventual plan of having the blond fall in love with him. However, by not being prepared he had nearly destroyed his chances before he had begun. Had he written down his email address himself, Demyx would have assuredly recognized the handwriting. He simply could not let Demyx know that he was Echo, not ever. The other man would surely never forgive him for what he had done.

By the time class ended, Zexion felt like a nervous wreck. He briefly considered calling up the bookstore and cancelling but knew even before the thought had finished crossing his mind that he would never be able to disappoint Demyx that way. He would simply have to go as planned and do his best to keep a firm grip on his concentration. During the walk to the sandwich shop, he calmed himself by thinking of the tasks he would have to perform for Professor Vexen that afternoon and was pleased to find, as he pushed open the door to enter, that he had managed to regain nearly all of his composure.

Demyx was already waiting for him at a table, his head bent over an opened notebook. The blond looked up when the door opened and smiled at the sight of Zexion. "Hi!" he greeted brightly.

"Hello, Demyx," Zexion responded, and although it didn't seem possible, the other man's smile widened at the sound of his voice. The sight of that smile eased the graduate student's nerves even further, and he found himself smiling back.

"I already told Eiko what I want," the musician told him, nodding his head in the direction of the counter where the same girl who had served them before stood waiting, "and I told her you're going to be paying."

"Good," Zexion replied, pleased that Demyx had agreed to let him pick up the bill this time. He crossed to the counter, ordered his own lunch after a moment of deliberation, and then moved to join Demyx at the small table he had chosen. "What are you doing?" he asked as he slid into the seat.

"Working on a new song," the blond replied, his eyes back on the sheet before him, pencil tapping lightly in his hand. "I got the idea because of yesterday."

"Yesterday? What was yesterday?"

Demyx looked up at him with an expression of amused disbelief. "Valentine's Day, silly! Didn't you know?"

"Ah." Zexion quickly scanned his mind for the date and realized that it was indeed the 15th of February. "So it was."

The blond laughed at him and his utter nonchalance. "You don't have a girlfriend, then," he stated more than asked.

"No, I don't."

"Yeah, me neither," Demyx half-sighed, returning his attention to the notebook, "although in my case, it's that I don't have a boyfriend." He began to doodle idly in the margins of his current page while Zexion successfully repressed the urge to shift in his seat. The conversation was making him decidedly uncomfortable, although what Demyx said next froze him from the inside out. "I thought I was in love a little bit ago, though."

"You thought … ?" Zexion echoed, focusing painfully on the past tense of the verb.

"Yup," his companion replied. "But see, I realized recently that what I thought I was in love with was only a piece of the whole, a projection of him actually. It was like I had fallen in love with his reflection in a pool of water." Blue-green eyes lifted and fixed their gentle, smiling gaze on the man across the table. "Kind of like Narcissus," Demyx said quietly. "You know that myth, right Zexion? The guy who fell in love with his own reflection?"

With his throat nearly closed shut from a mixture of fear and excitement, it took Zexion a moment to answer, "Yes, I believe I've heard of it."

Demyx leaned back in his chair, and Zexion suddenly found himself able to breathe again. Unaware of the near-suffocation he had just caused, the musician continued, "Well, that was what it was like. I had fallen for a reflection of a person, not the person himself, and you have to admit that that isn't really love. I was thinking about it all yesterday, since it was Valentine's Day, and I suddenly got inspired to write a song about it. So that's what I was working on when you came in, although now that you're here, I should stop." He closed the book and slipped the pencil into the spiral along the side. "You know what's really interesting about all this, though?" he asked in conclusion, leaning his elbows on the table and propping his head in one hand.

"No, what?" Zexion asked back once it became apparent that Demyx was waiting for a response.

Demyx smiled at him. "What I felt wasn't love. It was more like a reflection of love. So if I feel a reflection of love for the reflection of the person, I wonder what I would feel for the person himself."

Eiko chose that moment to arrive with their sandwiches. Zexion never wanted to hug a woman so badly in his life.

The conversation turned to simpler things after that. They talked about Zexion's studies for a while, and the scientist recommended some titles to the musician to read. Afterwards, Demyx told him about his duties as the in-town bride's attendant for Yuffie's upcoming wedding. While Zexion could care less about the institute of marriage and all its ceremonies, he enjoyed listening to his companion relate the difficulties of trying to organize a surprise party for an exceedingly nosy and sneaky woman who, having finished all of her own organizing, thought she might as well help out with this task as well. Apparently, Leon, who had decided with the other groomsman not to hold a bachelor party for Yuffie's fiancé, also wanted to help out, and Demyx had set him to the task of making sure Yuffie wasn't around when he was trying to plan things. This had so far resulted in Yuffie being once locked in a bathroom and once tied to a chair for an hour.

"She apparently called Vincent to complain, and Vincent called Leon and told him to keep up the good work."

Near the end of the meal, a few minutes before Demyx would have to leave or risk being late back to work, Zexion's eyes strayed to the notebook that had sat at the blond's elbow the entire time, and an idea began to form in his mind.

"Demyx," he asked carefully, "do you perform your music anywhere other than at that particular club you invited me to?"

"Hmm?" Demyx responded, looking up from building a little potato chip house. "Yeah, sure. I go to other clubs in the area, a couple sports bars, things like that."

"Have you ever thought of putting your music on the internet?"

Blue-green eyes blinked at him in semi-shock. "What, you mean like on YouTube or something?"

"Yes," Zexion answered calmly. "That's exactly what I mean." He gazed at the notebook again, brow furrowing. "I've heard that some pop stars on the radio today were discovered by placing homemade videos of themselves on the internet."

"Well yeah, but there's no way something like that could happen to me! So many people put videos of themselves up on those sites, Zex. The chances of someone important seeing mine are, like, a million to one!"

"I realize that," he conceded, "but it is also true that in order to win the lottery, you have to buy a ticket."

Demyx stared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, that bright smile that Zexion loved so much spread across his face. "You're right," he laughed. "Of course you're right. You're always right." Zexion didn't have time to consider the implications of that statement, for in the next moment Demyx had risen from his seat and come around the table to hug him. The sensation of those warm arms around him momentarily shut down all capacity for mental activity.

"I have to go now," Demyx said as he pulled away, "but I promise I'll think about it." In a flurry of movement, he threw out his trash, put on his coat, retrieved his notebook, and started moving towards the door. "Bye, Zexy! I'll email you later. Have a great rest of your day!"

Still slightly stunned, Zexion turned in his seat and sent the retreating blond a little wave and a definite smile. "See you later, Demyx."

xXx

_Ax, I need you to ask Zidane something for me. Just spent lunch with Echo. Why would he be scared to know I know who he is?_

**I'm not at work right now. What do you mean you spent lunch with Echo?**

_Call him then? Please? Oh, and I'm 99 percent sure this guy's the one._

**Fine. Give me a minute. You owe me.**

**Zidane says he thinks you won't forgive him. He also says you owe him ice cream for waking him up.**

_Why is he asleep at two on a Thursday? That makes sense. Thanks!_

**He's an actor. So, who is it?**

_Don't want to tell you until I'm 100 percent sure._

**Dammit, Demyx!**

_Sorry. Gotta go now. Leon's giving me the evil eye._

**Fine, fine. But you owe me TWICE, dammit.**

_You're the best, Axel. TTYL_

xXx

_Cloud_

One of the nice things about Tifa was that it was always extremely easy to find her. All one had to do was look at the men in the surrounding area and find the point where their combined stares intersected. He had said that to her once and she had grumbled something about men being pigs, but he honestly couldn't blame the guys for staring. Even he had a hard time looking at her without hearing the Commodores' "Brick House" in his head.

"Cloud!" she cried as she ran towards him, gaining him envious stares from several directions of the baggage area. "How have you been? It's so good to see you!"

"Hey, Tifa," he greeted her, accepting the offered hug. "It's good to see you, too." He graciously allowed her to squeeze him to her heart's content, then took the larger of her travel bags from her shoulder. "How was your flight?"

"Eh, it was okay," she shrugged. "I slept most of the way. The convention was damn boring, but for some reason I still didn't get very much sleep while I was there." She linked her arm in his and began to lead him out of the airport, towards the parking lot. "I'm so excited to see your new house! Where are the boys, by the way?"

"They're still at school. They're in the spring play, and they have practice for that four out of five days a week."

"Are they?" she asked excitedly, smiling up at him. "You'll have to tell me when the performance is, and I'll see if I can make it out here for it." She gave his arm a little two-handed squeeze and said, "Thanks again for taking time off of work for me, Cloud."

He smiled back. "Not a problem, Teef." It really was great to see her again. It made him feel younger, less like a dad weighted down with the responsibilities of work and family and more like the twenty-something he actually was. He found himself wishing she could stay longer than a few days.

"So," she said as they maneuvered around the parking lot, looking for the correct car, "what's new in the Strife household since I talked to you last weekend?"

Cloud actually laughed at that, a short bark of dry humor. "Well," he replied, "the short version is that Sora finally forgave his errant boyfriend, so he's no longer depressed and is back to flitting around the house with hearts in his eyes, and as for Roxas, I've gone and given him permission to date a rather annoying guy who's only three years younger than I am."

Tifa stopped walking a moment to stare at him, her brown eyes reflecting the setting sun. "You're kidding about Roxas, right?" she asked carefully.

Cloud sighed and, since they were now close enough to the car, dug out his keys. "I wish I was," he answered, "but I'm not."

"Cloud …"

"Don't start, Tifa," he interrupted with one hand raised in defense. "Trust me, I know. I'll let Roxas tell you about it. He's better at explaining it than I am." He popped the trunk for the luggage and then opened the passenger door and held it for her.

"Obviously," she remarked dryly as she slid into the seat. "And all this happened in three days?"

"All this happened in three days," he confirmed.

"I swear," she joked, shaking her head at him, "I go away for a bit, and everything goes to hell."

He smirked down at her. "We're helpless without you, Teef." She just laughed, and once she had pulled her feet away from the door, he closed it and walked around the car to his own side.

As they pulled out of the lot and began the drive back to the house, she suddenly announced with a grin, "I have some news of my own actually. Guess who I've finally managed to get a lead on."

It took him a moment to figure it out, but when he did, a surge of childish excitement rushed through him. "Not Zack?"

Tifa grinned at him from the other side of the car, brown eyes shining. "Yes!" she crowed. "Exactly!"

"Holy shit! Have you talked to him yet? Where is he?"

"Eh, I don't know that yet," she admitted, deflating a little and leaning back into her seat. "I haven't actually found him yet. I just have a lead. The name of someone he's supposed to have roomed with recently. Some guy named Angeal."

"Oh." The rush of happiness rapidly morphed into disappointment, and Cloud fought the urge to pout like a child. He couldn't really help it, though. He and Zack had been such good friends, and he really missed that open smile and that ready laugh. Of course, the man might have changed in the six years since they had last seen each other - the Zack he knew was not the type to cut ties and run off without a word - but even if he had, Cloud firmly believed, as did Tifa, that reestablishing their connection with him was important, if for no other reason than to inform him about Aerith and gain complete closure for that part of their lives.

"It's a good lead, though. A reliable source. I'm going to pursue it just as soon as I get home."

"Okay then," he replied, willing to encourage her in this. "Keep me posted on what you find out."

"Absolutely."

For the rest of the drive, they chatted about inconsequential things. Cloud shared stories about work and about the boys while Tifa talked a bit about her own job and the things that had been keeping her busy. When he pulled into the driveway, Tifa jumped out of the car eagerly, already full of praise for the house and the surrounding yard and neighborhood. He brought her luggage inside, introduced her to Destiny who was quite interested in this new visitor, and then proceeded to give her the grand tour. The three of them wandered through the entire house, Cloud patiently waiting while Tifa took her time in each room and Destiny explored everything as if she hadn't been living there for months, and then retired to the kitchen for drinks and snacks for the humans and a bowl of kibble for the dog.

"It's fantastic, Cloud," his friend told him once they were settled at the table. "It's the perfect house to raise a couple of kids in. It's just the house I would want for myself and my own family."

"Thanks," he replied with a small smile.

She smiled back, and Cloud felt a small wave of pleasant warmth pass over him. As good as this move had been for them, he still regretted moving away from his dearest female friend. Tifa had been a constant in his and Aerith's lives for years. She had seen them both through their hasty, sorrow-laden marriage and helped them settle in together. After every miscarriage, she had been there right alongside Cloud to comfort Aerith and help her heal. She had supported them both in their decision to adopt and had accepted Sora and Roxas immediately in spite of the boys' initial distrust of everyone and everything. And on the day of the accident, she had been the first one to the hospital after Cloud, had stayed through every heartbreaking second, and had voluntarily taken over the duties of housekeeper and caretaker for the Strife household for weeks afterwards so the family could have proper time to recover and mourn. Tifa was a rock, a pillar of strength if any person ever could be, and while he could still talk to her on the phone whenever he wanted or needed, he missed having her physically there in his life.

"When do the boys get home again?" she asked, interrupting his nostalgic thoughts.

"Uh …" He looked at his watch, realized he had taken it off, and instead leaned back in his chair to try to see the clock in the kitchen. "Pretty soon now," he answered once he had succeeded. "Fifteen, twenty minutes maybe."

"Okay, good," she said, and before he could ask why, she had leaned forward over the table with a conspiratorial gleam in her eye. "So tell me," she grinned, "how's _your_ love life, Cloud? You said Sora and Roxas both have boyfriends now. How about you? What's going on with Leon?"

Cloud resisted the urge to laugh at her excitement. "Well, first of all," he replied, "Roxas is still currently single. I gave him permission to date the guy he's interested in, but they're not dating yet. And as for the rest of your question …" He paused to get the grin that wanted to take over his face under control. Once he was satisfied he wouldn't look like an idiot, he told her, "My love life is going just fine. Nothing new has happened since I talked to you last, we're still not boyfriends yet, but I'm very happy with the way things are progressing."

To Cloud's surprise, Tifa didn't seem as happy with this information as he thought she would be. With a mild frown on her face, she tapped her fingernails against the tabletop and summarized, "So you've been on a few dates, you've kissed, you've told him you love him and you said last time you talked to me that he told you he loves you, but you haven't had sex and you aren't officially a couple."

"Right," he said, raising one eyebrow in wary question. "I don't like that look in your eye," he told her after a moment. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking," she replied, "that Leon is stalling and you two need a push. Preferably one that will get you into bed with each other."

Cloud just stared at her. He could see the wheels turning in her head, and he knew, the moment her eyes lit up with an idea, that he was in trouble.

"I've got it! Where's your phone?"

"You think I'm going to tell you when you look like that?"

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Oh shut up, you big sissy. I just want you to invite him to dinner tomorrow. And then," she continued, eyes shifting out of focus as she schemed, "before he comes over, we'll get you all dressed up so when he gets here he won't be able to resist you. We can send the boys out to a movie or something, and I'll make up an excuse to make a strategic exit, leaving you two alone to indulge in your carnal urges."

The talk of urges disturbed him quite a bit, but even greater was the bad feeling he received from an earlier part of her plan. "What do you mean 'dressed up'?"

Tifa inspected him for a moment, her sharp gaze roaming over his body, then his face. Finally, she answered, "I'm thinking black, knee-length, and spaghetti straps since you can't pull off strapless."

A great gaping chasm suddenly appeared in the ground and swallowed Cloud whole, or at least he wished it had. "Oh _hell_ no!" he nearly yelled at her. "You are _not_ putting me in a dress!"

"Why not?" she asked calmly. "You're the girl, aren't you?" When he started to sputter and choke, gasping for air that he simply could not find, she rolled her eyes at him and commented, "You're such a sissy. You want to take that final step with Leon, don't you?"

"Well, yes," he admitted once he could speak again, "but trust me, Teef, this is _not_ the way to do it!"

She just waved him off like he didn't know what the hell he was talking about. "It'll work," she insisted, "and whether it does or not, it doesn't matter. You're doing it, Strife." She fixed determined eyes on him, and they glinted with something close to evil. "You owe me."

Cloud recoiled. He was dead. He was so, _so_ dead. Because he did owe her. He owed her big time. Not for anything that had happened with Aerith or the boys; those favors she had given him for free and gladly. No, he owed her from four years of high school and even from before that. Homework help, rides, alibis for his mom, and countless other small and sundry favors. All those times he had asked, she had said, "Okay, but you owe me," yet she had never asked for anything in return. After all this time, Cloud had foolishly assumed that she had simply forgiven him his debt. She hadn't. Now she was going to collect, and he was _dead_.

Cloud dropped his head on the table, covered his head with his hands, and groaned.

"That's a good boy," Tifa purred sweetly to him. "Now, as soon as the boys get home, we should go shopping. We'll need some shoes and stockings and of course the dress. We can use my make-up so we won't have to buy any of that, but we will need to figure out what to do with your hair. Oh, but before we do all that, we need to call Leon up and invite him over, don't we? Where's your phone?"

_Merciful God in Heaven_ , Cloud thought as he heard Tifa rise from the table and begin to search, _please just kill me now._

xXx

_Demyx_

Demyx lay on his bed, his collection of photographs and letters pressed to his chest, and stared at his ceiling. He was sure now, as sure as he was going to be without confirmation from the man. Zexion had been the one to take pictures of him in secret and then deliver them anonymously. Zexion had been his mystery penpal, writing him letters full of compliments and questions and gratitude. Zexion had been the one to hold his hands in The Royal Flush, the one to run at learning that Demyx had fallen for his two-dimensional shadow, leaving his gloves behind. And Zexion was the one for whom Demyx had fallen now.

He had read through all of the letters again, this time hearing the quiet graduate student's voice in his head as he read them. The experience had left him feeling like a blind fool and utterly breathless with emotion. Zexion's voice was so clear - the high intelligence, the analytical mind, the hesitant shyness. And now that he had spent some time just talking with Zexion, the similarities were even clearer - the assistant's recurring mentions of Demyx's sunshine personality and his eagerness to encourage the musician to follow his dream of being professional. That suggestion of posting his music on the web this afternoon had solidified Demyx's belief that he had found the right person, even more so than the refusal to write down his address or the fear in his eyes at the mention of Narcissus. No one had supported him in his music quite in the same way that Echo had, and to hear the continuation of that sentiment coming from Zexion had been the final step to push his certainty up to 99 percent.

The problem now was what to do next. He was convinced that Zexion liked him romantically. He had suspected it way back when the man was just a stalker with a camera, and now that he had talked to him and seen the way he looked and acted when Demyx was around him, it was pretty clear what Zexion's feelings were. And Demyx returned those feelings. He had thought he was in love before, but as he had said that day at lunch, those had apparently only been reflections of his true feelings. The happiness and longing he had experienced when thinking about Echo was nothing in comparison to the joy he felt now when they were together or the aching desire that gripped him when they were apart. Even at this moment, his core burned for Zexion; he wanted to see him, touch him, to hear his voice and to see his smile. He wanted to get to know the reserved man even more, to see every last bit of him until there was nothing left to share. But that burning worried him because of the fact that Zexion was so reserved. He didn't want the other man to run again.

Sighing, Demyx reached over to his bedside table and retrieved the newest letter. Zexion had sent this one only a few hours ago, and Demyx had printed it out fairly recently. He held the paper up in front of his face, gravity pulling down the side that he wasn't holding, and read through it again.

**Dear Demyx,**

**As I am free at the moment, I thought I would take the opportunity to write and thank you for inviting me to lunch today. I enjoyed talking to you very much, and the experience was quite pleasant. I would be happy to repeat it again whenever you wish.**

**I hope you will take the time to consider the suggestion I gave you today about promoting your original songs. I am not the best judge of modern music, but even I can tell that you have considerable talent, Demyx. While it is true that that is not enough to succeed in the world of the performing arts, it is certainly an asset that should not be squandered. If you combine it with hard work, I am sure you will obtain satisfactory results.**

**Please keep me informed on what decisions you make regarding the matter and if there is anything I can do to help. While programming and web design is not my forte, I do have a bit of experience in it and could easily find you someone more skilled here on campus should you need it. Also please inform me should you attempt one of the titles I suggested today. I would be very interested to hear your opinions on them.**

**I wish you a good night.**

**Zexion**

Laying the letter down on top of the photograph album, Demyx bit his lip and considered. He really wasn't much for plans, being more of a physical, spur-of-the-moment kind of guy. The blindfold incident had been completely out of character for him, and he didn't think he could put together another scheme like that if he tried. Even so, a half-plan was starting to form in his head, one that he could use to get himself and Zexion somewhere secluded and secure. From there, he could go with his instincts and either let the moment pass without incident or follow his heart and take full advantage of it.

With more than a little difficulty considering the number of things lying on top of him, Demyx rolled off of his bed and crossed to his desk and the computer sitting on top of it. Once it had booted, he went straight to his email, found Zexion's latest letter, and clicked the button to create a reply.

_Dear Zexion,_

_You're quite welcome for the lunch invite. Thank you for paying for it. Next one is on me!_

_I have been thinking about your suggestion. A lot actually, and I was wondering something. Are you free tomorrow night? 'Cause I'm wondering if you would be willing to come over to my place and listen to a few of my songs. I know you heard a couple of them at New Year's, but I have others and then there's this new one I'm working on. I'd really love for you to hear them and tell me what you think of them. And before you say that you're not a good judge for this because you don't like pop music, let me say that that makes you *perfect* for judging it. Because if you like it then it has to be good, right? :)_

_I live above the bookstore, so just come there. Some time around 8:00 would be fine. The store will be closed, but I'll be in there cleaning up and stuff so I'll let you in. Let me know if you can, okay? I'm going to go back to working on that song now. I might even have it finished by tomorrow if I work hard enough._

_Hope to see you tomorrow! Night!_

_Demyx_

He read it over three times before hitting 'Send', and then when it had gone, he wandered over to his guitar and pulled it out. With luck, Zexion would agree to come over tomorrow night. If he did, Demyx would have to decide whether to open his heart just through his music or through spoken words as well. He only hoped that, this time, Zexion would stay.


	46. Friday

Dear Demyx,

Yes, I am free this evening, and I would be happy to listen to your songs for you although I am not sure what assistance I can lend you in regards to them. I will meet you at the bookstore at 8:00 as you requested. Until then.

Zexion

xXx

_Leon_

When Leon pulled into the driveway for the Strife's house, he was surprised to see a very familiar black sports car parked there as well. Frowning, he turned off the ignition and pulled out his keys. While he had heard that Sora and Riku had reconciled and were now back together, he hadn't exactly been prepared to spend this evening with his cousin. He supposed he could be civil, though, especially since Riku was once again part of Sora's life and Sora was part of Cloud's. And if Riku really had changed as much as everyone said he had, Leon should probably go ahead and give the boy a second chance.

It was Sora who answered the door for him once he had rung the bell. "Hi, Leon!" the boy smiled. "Come on in. We'll be out of your way really soon now."

Leon lifted an eyebrow as he passed through the open door. "So you're not staying for dinner?" he asked, successfully hiding his approval. He had become quite fond of both Sora and Roxas in the past few months, but he certainly wouldn't miss them if they were going to go out and leave the adults to themselves.

"Nope," Sora answered, shutting the door. "Riku and Kairi and Roxas and I already ate. We're all going to go see a movie and then probably go out afterwards for ice cream."

"Sounds like a fun evening," Leon said with a smile.

"Yup!" The boy grinned at him, and Leon was surprised at how relieved he felt to see that cheerful expression on Sora's face once more. He hadn't seen Sora very often when the boy had been depressed, but the few times he had had been painful enough for him to hope that the boy never had to endure something like that again.

After he had removed his coat and Sora had put it away in the closet for him, he asked, "Is Cloud in the kitchen?"

Sora froze, and to Leon's great surprise, he pressed his lips firmly together as if trying to stop himself from laughing. A long, confusing moment passed before the boy found enough control to turn to him and reply, "No, he's upstairs with Tifa. He'll be down soon, though, so you can just wait in the living room until he's ready if you want."

The whole thing was unbelievably suspicious, but Leon just nodded and started moving to the suggested room. He figured he'd find out whatever was going on soon enough.

His cousin and his cousin's best friend were both already in the room when he entered, sitting together on the couch with Cloud's dog stretched across their laps. Kairi was petting Destiny's head, and the dog was loving every second of it, thumping her tail happily against Riku who seemed to be enjoying trying to keep the furry appendage out of his face.

"Hello, Mr. Leonhart," the girl greeted Leon as he walked in. He gave her a nod and a slight smile in response. He had always liked Kairi and considered becoming her friend to be the only intelligent decision Riku had made in his entire life.

"I didn't think the dog was allowed on the couch," he commented, taking an empty seat for himself.

"She's not on the couch," Riku replied with a smirk. "She's on our legs." Kairi fervently nodded her agreement.

"Roxas!" they heard Sora yell from the hallway. "Hurry up! Leon is already here! We need to go!"

"I'm coming already!" the other twin yelled back in reply. They heard the sound of footsteps tromping down the stairs, and a moment later, both Strife boys appeared in the entrance to the living room. "Okay, let's go," Roxas said to Riku and Kairi.

The two teenagers proceeded to wrestle the golden retriever from their laps and, after finally succeeding after several minutes, rose to join the twins in the hallway. Leon noted with an internal smile the way that Sora's hand slipped into Riku's once the boys were close enough to touch each other.

"We're off," Roxas said, turning to Leon with a small smirk. "Enjoy dinner." Behind him, Sora made that tight-lipped face again and this time failed to keep in his little snort of amusement. Leon repressed his sigh and merely nodded in confirmation to the blond boy. Whatever was going on, the twins knew about it and found it hilarious. The blank faces of the other two teenagers indicated that they were currently out of the loop, but Leon had no doubt that by the end of the night, they would be suppressing laughter as well.

Once the foursome had trooped out and Riku's car had started up and pulled out of the driveway, Leon leaned back in his chair and tried to relax. Apparently, this evening was going to be more interesting than he had originally anticipated. While he sat there with his eyes closed, Destiny came up to him and stuck her head in his lap, so he scratched her idly behind the ears as he waited. He could hear the thumping of the dog's tail against the ground, and the sound made him smile.

Some time later - he wasn't entirely sure how long - he heard the sound of soft footsteps coming down the stairs. He opened his eyes in time to see a woman enter the room, her lips turning up into a friendly smile the moment she saw him. She was quite pretty with long black hair, warm brown eyes, and a figure that made even him stare for a moment in admiration. Truly, he had never seen breasts quite that large before.

"Hello," she said to him, holding out her hand. "You must be Leon. I'm Tifa, Cloud's friend from high school."

He stood and took her hand in a pleasant shake. "Nice to meet you," he murmured.

"And you," the woman replied, her smile widening. "Cloud's told me so much about you. It's so nice to finally see you for myself." Leon didn't know what to say to that, but thankfully, Tifa didn't seem to expect a response. "He's upstairs right now," she continued, gesturing with the hand he had just released, "but he'll be down in a few minutes. Is there anything I can get you in the meantime? Something to drink?"

"No thank you," he said. "I'm fine." This whole thing was becoming extremely worrying. What on earth was Cloud doing up there?

"Okay then. You just sit back down and make yourself at home. Cloud will be right down." She turned her back on him and exited into the hallway again, a definite anticipatory twinkle in her eye. "Come on, Destiny," she cooed, luring the dog away with her. "Let's put you in the backyard for a bit. Come on, girl."

Leon had had enough. Not quite enough to barge on upstairs while Tifa was putting the dog out, but enough to stand from his chair the moment he heard the woman climbing the stairs again and cross to the entranceway of the room to press himself against the wall and listen. Sure enough, he heard Cloud's voice speaking to Tifa, and while he could not make out everything that the man was saying, he heard enough to realize that Cloud was extremely pissed. When Tifa responded, her voice had hardened dramatically. Cloud's voice came back, still angry but resigned. Clearly whatever was going on was the woman's idea and Cloud was an unwilling participant.

At the sound of their feet approaching, Leon returned to his chair and tried to school his face into a blank expression. The footsteps stopped just outside the room where another quick confrontation occurred, this one in whispers, and then Cloud entered the room and crossed to the couch where he collapsed sulkily into a slouching heap.

Leon was speechless. In the minute that it took for him to remember how to function properly, the only thing that crossed his mind was that he now understood why Cloud was so angry and why the boys had been so amused. Cloud was wearing a dress. A black dress. Evening wear. It even shimmered. He was wearing nylons, too, and low heels, and someone - Tifa probably - had tried to make his hair lie flat although it was making a valiant attempt to spring up again. Leon honestly couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Cloud," he finally said, breaking the painfully uncomfortable silence, "what are you wearing?"

Angry blue eyes shot up to glare at him, and Leon could see they were lined with black eyeliner. There didn't seem to be any color on his face, but his lips looked moist and shiny like they had been coated with lip gloss.

"What does it fucking _look_ like I'm wearing?" the blond snapped.

Leon cleared his throat gently, wondering how best to go about this. "It looks like you're wearing a dress," he stated carefully. When Cloud just hung his head again and grumbled to himself, he asked, "Lose a bet?"

"Something like that," the other mumbled in reply. "More like repaying a shit-load of debts. Although," he added in a louder voice, "after this my slate is _clean_. You hear me, Tifa? I owe you _nothing_!"

Leon resisted the urge to laugh when the woman rounded the corner with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. "Cloud!" she scolded. "You weren't supposed to act like I was here. And sit up straight!" she added, crossing the room to him and starting to pull and slap him into better posture. "Why are you acting like a baby? You need to look your best for Leon. Smile, for God's sake!" Cloud sat up straight for her, but he refused to smile and after a few more moments of fighting it, Tifa gave up. As she lowered herself onto the couch next to him, she smiled seductively over at Leon and asked, "So, Leon, what do you think? Doesn't he look great?"

"You want to know what I think?" Leon asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tifa beamed at him; Cloud just looked away in embarrassment and self-disgust. "Yes!" the woman answered.

Leon gave Cloud a long once-over, lingering over the parts of the man that he himself found attractive: Cloud's slim legs, his chest and neckline, and of course his beautiful face and eyes.

"Honestly," he stated, "I think he looks ridiculous."

"Thank you!" Cloud cried, slapping his thigh with one hand. He attempted to cross his legs at the knee but, realizing that he couldn't without flashing Leon, stretched them out in front of him instead and slumped down low in his seat.

Tifa was gaping at him. "Ridiculous?" she echoed in disbelief. "But why? You're supposed to think he's sexy!"

"Why would I think that?" Leon asked in honest confusion.

The woman frowned at him in sudden anger, and Leon realized in an instant how Cloud had allowed himself to be browbeaten into a dress and heels. "You're the dominant one," she informed him bluntly. "Seeing him like this is supposed to appeal to your desire to protect him. It's supposed to make him appear even more delicate and more beautiful than he already is. You're _supposed_ to be unable to resist him."

Leon just blinked at her, completely at a loss as to where she had gotten these ideas. Thankfully, Cloud came to his rescue. "She reads online gay porn," he revealed with a sigh.

"Oh, I've heard of those," Leon replied with dawning realization. "Aren't those written by women for women?"

"Most of them, yeah."

Tifa was glaring at them both now, her irritation quite palpable, but Leon decided to brave it for Cloud's sake if not for his own. "Tifa," he told her, "I'm gay. I'm attracted to men. In particular, I'm attracted to Cloud. If you wanted to turn me on, you should have dressed him in a nicely-tailored suit, one that showed off his shoulders and accentuated the length of his legs. This, for me, is like a Halloween costume." Cloud snorted at that, obviously agreeing. "Yes, I have protective feelings towards him," Leon continued, "but I'm more turned on by the fact that I _don't_ have to protect Cloud. Cloud's strength is one of his most attractive qualities. He can take care of himself _and_ others. I don't want to see him vulnerable and needy. That's not the man I fell in love with."

Those brown eyes fell in disappointed understanding. The blue eyes beside her, however, gazed steadily at Leon in appreciation and mild embarrassment. Leon's honest words of praise had obviously stirred something within Cloud, and the brunet could feel that familiar connection forming between himself and the blond even from across the room.

"I love Cloud," Leon stated quietly in conclusion. "I love everything that makes him him, including his strength and his masculinity. If I wanted someone delicate and beautiful who could fill out a dress like that and who would wear make-up and stockings and try to seduce me with femininity, well …" He paused, smirked deeply, and finished, "I'd date a woman."

No one spoke for a long moment. Then, Tifa sighed and collapsed backwards into the couch. "Well, shit," she complained. "I was really hoping I could get you laid tonight."

Cloud laughed lightly and bumped her with one bare shoulder. "And I told you I didn't want to just get laid. But you didn't listen."

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Rub it in."

Leon swallowed a chuckle as he watched them interact. Their strong friendship was obvious to see, and it pleased him to know that Cloud had someone like Tifa on whom he could rely, someone to fill that space for Cloud that Zell and Selphie did for him. And secretly he was exceedingly amused that Tifa had attempted to engineer this seduction. Failure though it was, it matched Leon's thoughts surprisingly well, although he had already decided exactly when and where he would take that final step and this was not the place nor the time. And Cloud most certainly would not be wearing that.

"Can I take this off now?" the blond asked as if reading the brunet's mind.

"I guess," Tifa sighed. She pulled herself up from the couch to get to her feet. "Let's go," she said, offering Cloud a hand up. "You're going to need my help getting that zipper down."

"I'll just wait here," Leon offered with a smirk.

Cloud snorted, but Tifa frowned at him again, although this time without anger. "I can't believe you don't find this sexy," she complained, gesturing to the man beside her, up and down.

Leon shrugged. "The nylons are kind of nice," he conceded half-heartedly.

"Oh, don't even!" Cloud snapped when he saw Tifa's eyes light up slightly. "All of this is coming off. _All_ of it. And I'm putting on sweats just to spite you." He turned sharply and stormed out as best he could in the unfamiliar shoes. Tifa followed him sadly, Leon watching both of them go with as blank an expression as he could manage.

Once they had both disappeared and the sound of their feet moved up the stairs and down the hall, Leon, knowing he was finally safe, leaned over, buried his face in his hands, and laughed until he cried.

xXx

_Olette_

Working on a Friday night always sucked, even at Baskin Robbins, but Olette knew the moment Kairi and the others walked in that tonight was going to be different. She realized as soon as she laid eyes on Sora and Riku that she had become witness to an amazing piece of gossip. As a good friend, she wouldn't impart that gossip unless she had permission, but she possessed it which was gift enough.

"Hi, Olette!" Kairi greeted her, bounding up to the counter with a smile on her face. "I didn't expect to see you working here tonight."

"Um, yeah," the brunette replied, tearing her eyes away from the two boys she had thought were fighting over the girl in front of her, the two boys who were at this moment holding hands. "I try not to get scheduled for Friday night, but sometimes it can't be helped. Hayner gets upset when it happens though."

"Eh, forget Hayner," Roxas commented, resting his elbows on the counter. "He's a big boy. He'll get over it."

"So what's everyone having?" Riku asked. He lifted his free hand to capture Olette's attention. "I'm paying, by the way. Don't let anyone else give you any money."

"You don't have to do that!" Sora protested, making a grab at that hand with his. Riku laughed at his attempts and quickly captured Sora completely, both of the smaller boy's wrists in one hand and the other arm around his waist.

"Oh, let the rich boy pay," Kairi told him. Turning back to Olette, she casually gave her order, followed by Roxas. By the time Olette had scooped their cones, the play fight between Riku and Sora had stopped and they gave their orders as well.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked as she worked on the second two cones. "How long have you two been … you know … ?"

Sora answered her with a grin. "Short answer: Wednesday. The long answer isn't really important." He tipped his head at her as he accepted the cone she offered him. "Are you okay with that, Olette? It doesn't freak you out or anything, does it?"

"No, it doesn't freak me out," she answered with a kind smile. "I have to admit I'm surprised, though. I always thought that when Riku finally settled down, it would be with Kairi."

" _That_ would freak _me_ out," Kairi commented between licks of ice cream.

"Ditto," Riku said and then dodged the slap she sent his way.

Laughing, Olette handed him his cone and moved to the register to ring them up. "Can I ask another question?" When Riku nodded at her, she said, "You walked in here holding hands. Does that mean you're going to be open about your relationship?"

The two boys exchanged glances before Riku turned back to her and answered, "We're not going to flaunt it in front of everybody, but we're not going to hide it either. We're planning on telling our immediate friends, but that's it. If other people find out, fine, but we're not going to go screaming from the rooftops either."

Olette smiled at him. That was just what she was hoping he would say. It meant that they understood that their relationship would create negative feedback, but that they were confident enough and sure enough of each other to move forward anyway. "Well, congratulations to both of you," she said as she accepted cash from him and gave him his change. "You're very cute together."

"Too cute," Roxas commented from one of the tables near the windows. "You're gonna give me cavities."

"Oh shush," Sora ordered, sticking out his tongue. "You're just jealous because you have to wait three months before you can get all kissy-face with Axel."

"Sora!" Roxas hissed in reprimand, but the damage had been done.

"Axel?" Riku asked, shocked. "Lighting and sound guy Axel?"

"Awesome hair and stunning eyes Axel?" Olette added.

"Sexy body to die for Axel?" Kairi finished.

Roxas just glared. "Sora," he growled.

His brother cringed and tried to hide behind his boyfriend. "Sorry."

Sighing, Roxas set his half-eaten cone aside for the moment and focused his attention on the three pairs of staring eyes in front of him. "Okay, here's the deal," he said. "Once the spring play is over, Axel and I plan on starting a relationship. I don't know about him, but I would very much appreciate it if it _didn't_ get all over the school that we're together. I was planning on telling you anyway, Olette, and Hayner and Pence, so that's fine, but I'd rather if it doesn't go any farther than that. At least until I've graduated high school." Apparently finished, he leaned back in his chair and picked up his ice cream again.

"Wow," Riku commented. "Roxas and Axel. Never saw that one coming."

"Me neither," Kairi agreed. "I always thought he was a ladies' man. I mean, he's got the looks for it."

Riku laughed at that and slung an arm around Sora's waist again. "It's these Strife boys," he joked. "They'd turn anyone gay."

"Hey!" Sora cried, punching Riku in the shoulder. "That's not funny!" The others disagreed, though, and soon all five of them were laughing.

"Well, Kairi," Olette commented once they had quieted down, "the only one left is you. Unfortunately, with Sora and Riku paired up with each other, there go the two most obvious choices." At her comment, Riku started snickering and Kairi, surprisingly, started to turn red. "What?" Olette asked, instantly sensing yet more gossip. "What am I missing?"

"Nothing," Kairi replied airily. "Nothing at all."

"Oh, nothing, is it?" Riku commented, slowly putting some distance between himself and the girl. "Wonder what 'Daj would think to hear you call him nothing."

"Riku!" Kairi shrieked, lunging at him, but he had already moved too far away.

"Kadaj!" Sora yelped. "Really? Are you serious?" When Kairi only reddened further in reply, he added, "He's insane. He scares me."

"He's not that bad," the embarrassed girl protested. "And anyway, you'd better get used to him, Sora, if you're planning on dating Riku."

"Yeah, I know, I know."

"Okay, guys," Roxas interrupted before the minor spat brewing could become something major, "let's get going. I want to get home and see if Dad and Tifa are still okay or if they've managed to kill each other."

"Aw," Sora mock-whined, "but Roxas, don't you think Aunt Tifa's plan will work?"

His brother snorted. "Do you?" When Sora just laughed, he repeated, "Come on, let's go," and started moving towards the door.

"What plan?" Kairi asked as the rest of them followed.

"We promised Dad we wouldn't tell anyone."

"We'll tell you if it worked, though. I don't think he'd mind then."

"'Cept it isn't going to work."

"Yeah, I know."

"Bye, Olette!" Riku remembered to call just before the door closed behind them, and Kairi added her own "Bye!" a half-second later.

"Bye," she replied, knowing that they would see her wave even if they didn't hear her. Smiling and marveling at what a night for gossip it had been, she turned and went to go fetch a rag to wipe down the counter. Perhaps working on a Friday night wasn't so bad after all.

xXx

_Zexion_

The bookstore was closed as Demyx had said it would be, but the lights were on and Zexion could see movement back amongst the shelves. He knocked lightly on the door, and a second later, the blond appeared in an aisle, smiling brightly. Demyx quickly ran to the door and undid the locks to let the teaching assistant in.

"Hi, Zexy!" he greeted as the door swung open with a clattering of bells. "I'm so glad you could come!"

"Good evening, Demyx," the other replied. He stepped into the welcoming warmth of the store from the cold outside. "It is good to see you."

Demyx was bouncing on the balls of his feet, seemingly full of energy. "I just have a bit more cleaning up to do," he announced. "If you can wait for me over at the counter, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Certainly." While Demyx bounded off to finish whatever duties he had left to fulfill, Zexion wandered over to the front counter as bidden and leaned against it as comfortably as he could. He had to admit it felt a little strange to be in the store after hours. "Where is Mr. Leonhart?" he asked, raising his voice just enough to be heard. "Is he upstairs?"

"Leon's out," Demyx called back from somewhere in the store's depths. "He went over to a friend's house for dinner. Yuffie was here for a while to help clean up, but I told her I could do the rest. It's just you and me now."

A shiver ran through Zexion at the news, although he wasn't sure if it was from excitement or fear. Other than that night in The Royal Flush, he had never been alone with Demyx in private before. All their other face-to-face meetings had been with other people present if not included in the conversation, and that one time they had been alone, Demyx had been unable to see and he had not spoken. The prospect of being alone with the blond object of his desires was both appealing and terrifying. Zexion could not decide which was stronger.

Lost as he was in these thoughts, the time passed quickly, and soon Demyx was at his side announcing that he had finished. After turning off all the lights, the musician led him to the back and up a flight of stairs to the second floor apartment. Once there, Demyx insisted on giving Zexion a tour that lasted all of three minutes, and then they retired to the living room where Demyx's guitar and notebook already sat waiting. After ascertaining that Zexion didn't want anything to eat or drink, the blond offered his visitor a chair and, once Zexion was seated, settled himself on the ground with his instrument and began to play.

For the next hour or so, Zexion sat in peaceful stillness and listened to Demyx sing. Some of the songs he had heard before, but others were new, some finished, some not. After each one, Demyx would pause and ask for Zexion's opinions, and the scientist would give them, unsure as to how worthwhile they were but willing to share what he felt. The subject matter of the earlier songs meant little to him as they tended to deal with love and loss in a more general sense. The newer pieces, however, touched his heart deeply. He could easily hear his influence within the words, and while he was no student of music and did not even know how to read the notes on a page, he steadfastly believed that the overall sound of these songs was more refined and more mature. Demyx seemed prouder of these as well, and it showed in the way he performed them.

Eventually, the musician had run through all of his material, and he put the guitar aside to flop backwards onto the floor. "Whew!" he sighed heavily, draping one arm over his eyes. "That's it. I'm done. I ain't got no more. Ladies and gentlemen, Elvis has left the building."

Zexion smiled down at him fondly. "Is there anything I can get for you?" he asked. "A pillow perhaps?"

Demyx laughed and waved his hands in the air. "No, no, I'm fine," he insisted. "And anyway, you're my guest. You're not supposed to be getting stuff for me." He dropped his arms, letting them fall at his sides, and gazed up at Zexion with a tired smile. They held that simple connection for a heartbeat, but then to Zexion's mild confusion and surprise, it changed. The smile slowly melted from Demyx's face, leaving behind a contemplative expression that, while gentle and tender, was quite unlike the musician's usual energy and spirit. It hypnotized the young scientist, and Zexion found that he could not muster the willpower to look away.

Eventually, Demyx seemed to come to a decision regarding whatever it was he was deliberating. He sat up and looked away, breaking the connection and freeing Zexion from its grasp. "I have something for you," the blond said quietly. He rose to his feet and flashed the other man a grin that seemed a little out of sorts. "Wait here."

"Very well."

Demyx disappeared down the hall to the two bedrooms, taking his guitar and notebook with him. Trying not to worry, Zexion waited. Demyx's expressions had been different from his usual ones, but they had not been sad or anxious and the assistant comforted himself with this as he sat in silence, staring at the hands he had clasped in his lap. When Demyx returned, he immediately snapped his head up, but the blond approached with his hands behind his back, obviously hiding whatever it was he had gone to retrieve.

Once he stood directly before Zexion, Demyx pulled his hands around and dropped what he held into the other man's waiting hands.

"I believe," he said softly, "that these are yours."

Zexion's heart stopped. He couldn't move; he could barely breathe. "I … I'm sorry, Demyx," he somehow managed to choke out. "You must be mistaken."

"No," Demyx replied in that same soft tone. "I don't think I am."

His mind whirling, his insides tumbling, Zexion stared at the pair of black gloves in his hands. The gloves that he had been wearing when he followed Demyx to the club that night two weeks ago. The gloves that he had allowed Demyx to remove as he played the part of Echo. The gloves that he had left behind. Demyx had just returned them to him, stating in a voice of certainty that they were his.

The expression on Demyx's face didn't register in his mind, not the smile on those lips or the tender look in those blue-green eyes. Nor did it register that Demyx had asked him here this night knowing of his secret, knowing and not caring. All that registered was the fear. The knowledge that he had been caught. The despair that it was all over. The desperate need to get away. He was on his feet and moving in an instant, gloves falling to the floor, coat forgotten on the back of the chair. All he could focus on was the door and the need to get out, to get _away_ , to run and run and not stop until he had run far enough that all of this couldn't reach him. Until he couldn't be hurt anymore.

And then Demyx stopped him.

"Zexion, don't go!"

He stopped. Froze in place with his body leaning forward and his eyes fixed on the door, one hand beginning to reach out to grasp the handle. He was panting for air, heart pounding painfully against his ribcage, as if he had run a mile instead of just a few steps. The adrenaline was screaming through him, coursing through his bloodstream on a wave of solid fear. But he stopped and, if only for a moment, waited.

Demyx hadn't moved. He still stood in that same spot by Zexion's chair, and he gave no indication that he would move now, somehow knowing that a single step would send Zexion into a blind panic again. "Don't go," he said again, more quietly this time, and added, "I forgive you."

Zexion gasped softly, not expecting to hear those words. But Demyx wasn't finished, and what he said next sent the assistant's mind reeling even as it eased the panic and calmed the fear.

"I forgive you for stalking me, for taking pictures of me without my knowledge or consent. You didn't understand what you were feeling. You had never felt like that before, and so you needed some way to figure it out. I don't even really think I need to forgive you for doing that. There was never any malice in your intent and you never did anything that hurt me, but if you feel you need to be forgiven for it, I forgive you. I forgive you, too, for running away when we met at the club. I told you that I was falling for Echo, and that upset you because you're not Echo, not really. Like I said a couple of days ago, Echo is merely a part of you. You were upset because you realized then that you really wanted to hear that I had fallen for you, not for the person you created to talk to me. Again, you had these feelings that you didn't know what to do with, and so you did the first thing that you could think of to do, the easiest thing to do. You ran from me. You hurt me a lot when you did that, but I understand it and I forgive you for it."

Now, Demyx moved, slow steps that brought him steadily closer, and as he moved, he continued to speak his heart. "I told you at lunch that I'm not in love with Echo anymore. That's true; I'm not. But it's also true that the more time I spend with you, Zexion, the more I realize how much I like you, and this time I know I'm falling for the whole person, not just the reflection." Demyx was right behind him, his voice soft and warm against the back of his neck. "I like you, Zexion," he murmured, "and I think - I'm pretty sure actually - that you like me, too. I'd really love to be with you, to be your boyfriend, and for you to be mine."

Fingers lightly brushed against Zexion's upper arm, and at the touch, once again, he panicked. He lunged for the door, but rather than try to escape through it this time, he flattened his back against it, whirling to stare terrified at Demyx's surprised face. He couldn't speak, his breath coming so fast and erratic, but even if he could, he wouldn't know what to say. Thought had abandoned him; there was nothing but _feeling_ and he didn't know what to do.

"You're still scared," Demyx remarked in confusion. "Why?" His brow furrowed slightly in serious thought. "I've told you that I forgive you for all your actions and that I return your feelings. Why are you still so scared?"

"Because …" Zexion gasped out, determined to at least state what was going on within him even if he couldn't stop it. "Because I don't understand what's happening to me. I'm not used to all these … all these _emotions_ , and they're all so strong. I don't understand them. I can't control them. I can't make them stop. And if I can't understand them and I can't control them, I can't predict what's going to happen to me. And that scares me, Demyx, because if I can't predict what's going to happen to me, then I can't guarantee that I won't … I won't …"

Even as he broke off gasping, Demyx was smiling again. He took a few steps forward, ignoring the way Zexion flinched, and lifted one arm to extend a hand. "It'll be okay," he said, and the conviction in his face suddenly and inexplicably soothed Zexion's heart. "Nobody can completely predict the future, but I can promise you that it'll be okay. We can work through both of our emotions together. I'll help you understand yours, and you can help me understand mine. We'll do it slowly, bit by bit. All you have to do now is trust me." He tipped his head to the side a bit, and his smile brightened with a hint of that familiar sunshine that had so captivated Zexion all those months ago and had forever changed his life. "You trust me, don't you, Zexion?"

All his fear and uncertainly melted away before the persistent warmth of that smile, and slowly, hesitantly, Zexion smiled back. His arm moved, lifting his hand away from the door and towards the one that remained outstretched and waiting for him.

"Yes."

When their fingers interlaced, Demyx pulled gently, easing Zexion away from the door and into his arms. As unused to physical contact as he was, Zexion didn't fight it. He allowed the slightly taller man to fold him into a loose embrace, allowed a callused hand to slide softly through his hair and push his long bangs to the side, and when a moment later, Demyx used that hand to tilt Zexion's chin up just a bit, he simply closed his eyes.

The kiss was amazing, tender and slow yet full of Demyx's natural warmth. It made Zexion's body tingle and sent the flurry of unfamiliar feelings inside him to twirling and dancing. When Demyx deepened it a moment later, the tenderness remained although the warmth intensified. Zexion soon found himself clinging to the other man's frame as the emotions within him weakened his knees and set his head spinning. By the time the musician pulled away, Zexion was having trouble focusing, and he could barely stand.

"You still okay?" Demyx whispered to him, his lips resting somewhere above the smaller man's ear.

"Yes," Zexion replied, although a subsequent thought made him chuckle.

"What?" his love asked, lifting his head and smiling down at him.

"I was just thinking," he replied, smiling back with sly amusement, "that you are even more talented than I had first believed."

Understanding his meaning at once, Demyx threw his head back and laughed. "What can I say?" he replied as he leaned down for a second time. "I have an unbelievable muse to inspire me."


	47. Vincent

_The sky is a cloudy white-gray, but at least it is not raining. The weather is also warm, although that has not kept him away from here these past few months. Several times during the winter, he came here to lie on the ground, sometimes in the snow, and gaze up at the sky as he does now. The weather never deters him; physical discomfort is nothing compared to the pain of his heart. Now that the temperature is warmer, however, it probably will not be long before someone joins him in his place of refuge._

_Yuffie will be coming back._

_The girl baffles him. Unafraid of him or of the consequences of her actions, she forced her way into his life and refused to leave. Soon after their first meeting in the fall, she badgered his phone number from him, and since then not a day has passed that she has not either called him or hunted him down. He does not even understand what she wants. She is a tornado of activity and noise, blowing through his life without any apparent reason, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. He refuses to give her his room number; his life would be thrown into complete chaos should she ever find out where he lives._

_And yet there is something about her that he can't help but like. She has the energy and stubbornness of a child, but she looks at him with the eyes of a woman. There is knowledge in her gaze and understanding even if she chooses to ignore that more mature side of herself most of the time. Her incessant chatter frequently gives him a headache, but every so often, in the middle of her babbling, she'll say something so insightful, so unexpected, that it leaves him floundering, staring at her, and once again shatters his resolve to evict her from his life._

_If he had not vowed to never again allow such a feeling into his heart, he might possibly consider trying to form a romantic connection with her._

_He doesn't hear her coming. As foolish as he thinks it is that she claims to be a master ninja, she knows how to move quietly. Yet, somehow, he knows she is there moments before she appears._

_"Heya, Valentine!" she grins, towering over him and gazing down as he gazes up._

_"Hello, Yuffie," he greets back. He does not smile, but she does not seem to mind. A moment later, she is sitting beside him, cross-legged, looking up at the same sky he has been staring at for almost an hour._

_"I've decided something," she says without preamble. She pauses to allow him to comment, but when he doesn't, she simply shrugs and continues, "I've decided I like you."_

_The statement is so child-like and innocent that it takes him off-guard. Amused, he asks, "You do?"_

_"Yup."_

_"I see."_

_"And know what else I've decided?"_

_He is fighting a smile hard now. It is odd how sometimes she can have this effect on him. For two years, he was in such pain every moment of every day that he truly believed he would never smile again. When he met Cloud, the pain eased enough that he was able to lift his lips occasionally, usually in a wry gesture when his friend and roommate made some pessimistic observation on the unfairness of life. But since meeting Yuffie, every so often, he finds himself wanting to smile from a lighter emotion, something that actually brings him pleasure, something resembling the happiness that he has resigned himself to never feeling again._

_In answer to her question, he replies, "I have no idea, nor do I wish to hazard a guess."_

_"I've decided you're going to be my boyfriend."_

_And this is the other thing she does to him, that no one else other than her has ever managed to do. The depths to which she can shock him are unlike any he has ever experienced. He is so stupefied that he does not even protest when she lifts his head and settles it into her lap. Her fingers begin to stroke through his long hair, playing with it almost reverently._

_When he finally finds the ability to use his voice once again, he asks, "Don't I get a say in this?"_

_"Nope," she replies cheerfully. "None at all. And don't bother trying to fight it. Resistance is useless."_

_In spite of her warning, he considers protesting further, but her fingers in his hair are soothing and he doesn't think he has the energy to fight with her right now. So, he'll go along with it for a while and wait for her to get bored of him and leave. He has no doubt she will leave eventually. He accepted long ago that he is fated to suffer through this life alone._

_As he closes his eyes and gives in to her warm hands, he wonders briefly what Cloud will think of all this._

xXx

Someone had once told Vincent that the job of the groom in a wedding was to show up in a tux, say "I do" whenever someone asked him a question, and pay the bill when the whole thing was over. While his experiences with his own wedding weren't quite that bad, there had been no doubt from the very beginning that this was Yuffie's show and he was just along for the ride. Even now, with only one day left to him as a single man, he had very little to do other than play taxi service to the guests flying in from out of town. If his presence and his car weren't needed at the airport several times throughout the day, he might even have gone to work as usual, like Cloud had. All in all, it left him very little to do except think and remember.

When lunchtime rolled around, he drove over to Lionhearted Books, parking on a side street rather than take up one of the limited number of spaces directly in front of the store. As he walked around to the front, he found his steps gradually slowing and his eyes lifting to take in all the details of the street. He had never felt particularly attached to this town or to the places in it, but now that he knew he was about to leave, he couldn't help feeling that he would miss it, at least a little. In spite of his naturally anti-social nature, he and Yuffie had made a decent amount of memories over the years, and now he would be leaving those memories behind.

_Hey, Vin, guess what? I'm transferring to a school near to where you work. No, don't argue, the paperwork's already been done._

The place that held the most of those memories was, of course, the bookstore. He had gone there so many times, to pick her up after her shift or to say a quick goodbye before heading off to the airport and another business trip. While he had never spent much time talking to Leonhart, he approved of his reticent nature and had felt a kind of camaraderie with the man as they both learned how to deal with the explosion of energy that was Yuffie Kisaragi. There had been something else as well, something instinctive that Vincent had recognized on a subconscious level. In many ways, Leonhart reminded him both of himself and of Cloud. They were all suffering in silence, and because of that, Vincent had felt a small connection with the man from the moment they had met.

_Leon, Leon, come meet my boyfriend! Leon, this is Vincent. Vince, this is Leon, the grand poobah of this place. You two should get on great. You can both be broody bastards together._

Yet he had been as surprised as everyone else to find that his best friend and his girlfriend's employer were suffering in silence over each other. When Yuffie had called him with the news, bubbling over with the weight of the gossip and the irritation she had felt at both of them for not telling her, he had been struck dumb with shock and self-disgust. He should have known. Even though he had only seen that photograph once, he felt he should have been able to connect that proud young face to its older counterpart. For days after that phone call, he had blamed himself for the pain of both men. He couldn't help but feel that the entire thing was his fault.

_Who? …_ **_My_ ** _pain. … I see._

Eventually, however, Vincent had come to realize that, even if he had made the connection between the man from Cloud's past and the man from Yuffie's present, telling anyone would have accomplished nothing. Cloud's devotion to Aerith would have kept him from acting on any information that Vincent might have given him, and when the woman had died, his friend very likely would have done his best to avoid the other man rather than seek him out for a reconciliation. As for Leon, his pride would have dictated his actions. He would have avoided Cloud even more fiercely than Cloud would have avoided him, and the two would never have resolved their feelings. That accidental meeting at the airport truly was for the best. Without it, all that had happened since then might never have come to be.

_I feel like I've been given a second chance, Vin. I can hardly believe it. … You deserve it. … Ha, didn't I say the same thing to you a month or two ago? … It's true for both of us._

The bells above the door jangled as they always did when he opened the door and entered the bookstore. Leonhart glanced up from his place at the counter and offered him a smile. That one small gesture would have been enough to destroy Vincent's guilt for good had he had any left at this point in time. The past few months may have been rough at times and full of surprises and challenges, but it had all turned out all right in the end. He and Leon had both learned to smile again. As for Cloud, his sons had returned the smile to his face years ago, but now he would occasionally break out into a grin that could out-dazzle Yuffie's and left Vincent in awe of how the man he had once roomed with had changed. And Leon still had yet to accept Cloud formally as his boyfriend.

"How you holding up?" Leon asked him as he came further into the store, clearly referring to his upcoming wedding.

"Fine," he answered calmly. "Is Cloud here yet?"

The other man shook his head. "No, but even if he was, I'm not ready to go yet. I have to do a few more things before I can close the shop down."

Nodding in understanding, Vincent moved to the window so he could watch the street outside as he waited. Leon returned to his work without a word, moving between the register, the computer, and the back room with an efficiency that Vincent appreciated. With his two employees flitting about like mad all morning and all three of them needed for the rehearsal that afternoon, Leon had had no choice but to close the store for half the day. However, he had insisted on opening it for the morning, much as Cloud had insisted on going to work for at least a few hours. Vincent envied them. Considering the boredom he was suffering through, even the most stressful and harried day at work would have been preferable.

The growling sound of a motorcycle broke through his thoughts, and a moment later he watched as Cloud pulled into a parking space astride his beloved Fenrir. After putting down the kickstand and shutting off the engine, he pulled his helmet off and shook his head, spikes bouncing back up into place the moment they were freed. Vincent turned to inform Leon that the third member of their party had arrived and was surprised to find the man standing only a few feet away, his gray eyes fixed firmly on the blond outside. Slowly, Vincent's lips turned upwards in a knowing smirk.

"Is that look of lust for the bike," he asked quietly, "or for Cloud?"

Leon's gaze shifted to him, but rather than respond, he merely smirked back and turned away. Vincent suppressed a small laugh. Yes, much had changed these past few months.

The three had lunch together during which Cloud teased him a bit by insinuating that Vincent would try to run away before tomorrow. He took the teasing gracefully and even joked that, if he did run off, it was Cloud's job as best man to hunt him down and drag him back. Leon commented that really it was the job of the best man to help kidnap the bride and then keep the bride's family from killing the groom, at which point Cloud announced that he had changed his mind and surrendered his duties to Leon who, unsurprisingly, refused. The whole thing amused Vincent greatly, and the best part was that, whether it was as a joke or not, Cloud had no reason to be worried at all.

_Cloud, do you think you could help me pick something out for Yuffie? … Sure, no problem. What are you going to get her? … A ring._

He had had doubts about his decision even before he had walked into that jewelry store with his best friend. Almost the moment the clerk handed him the box with his purchase inside, he wanted to hand it back, and he kept debating over whether to return it for weeks afterwards. Even after he had given it to Yuffie, he still occasionally had moments where he wondered if he could really do this, if he could really offer himself completely to her, if he could honestly believe that their love wasn't a temporary thing, destined to die away.

_Vince, I swear if you talk about taking that ring back one more time, I'm going to kill you._

He didn't doubt anymore. Yuffie was his life, and somehow, by some miracle, he had become hers. In the time that he had known her, the gaping wounds that he had believed would trouble him forever had closed and healed until they were only thin, white scars, easily overlooked and forgotten. He had her to thank for it. Countless times he had tried to shake her off, but she had held on, refusing to let go, carefully piecing his heart back together when he wasn't paying attention. Her declarations of love, though ignored and deflected at first, had seeped into him little by little until he didn't need to hear her say it to believe it. When he had proposed, the joy in her eyes had only served to solidify what he had known all along. She loved him, and he loved her.

_God, Vin, I'm so happy. I'm so very, very happy._

After lunch, Vincent went back to the airport, this time with Leon accompanying to provide an extra taxi for use, and Cloud returned to his office, planning to work until Sora and Roxas got out of school. Once again, the brunet did not attempt to hide his stare as the blond sped away, and Vincent did not attempt to hide his amusement although he didn't comment this time. His second groomsman may have been holding out on making it public and official, but it was extremely clear to whom his heart belonged.

After an afternoon of driving back and forth and politely dealing with both his fiancée's father and his own, Vincent stepped into the smaller of the two banquet halls Yuffie had reserved with more relief than trepidation. From here on, everything would move quickly, and while he might have to stand around doing nothing once or twice more, it wouldn't be nearly as bad. At this point, he was the groom, an important part of the proceedings. They couldn't exactly have the wedding without him.

"Vinnie!" his soon-to-be-wife cried as soon as she saw him. She grabbed the hand of the woman next to her and pulled her along as she ran across the room to meet him. "You remember Garnet, right?" she asked when she was close enough, presenting the shocked and frazzled woman to him like a game-show prize.

"Of course," he replied, taking the young woman's hand partly out of politeness but mostly to keep her from toppling over before she could regain her balance. "It's so nice to see you again, Princess Alexandros."

Garnet laughed, dark eyes sparkling. "It's been so long since anyone called me that," she replied with a smile. "Although I suppose there is no better time for a girl to be a princess than at a wedding. Right, Princess Kisaragi?"

"That's right!" Yuffie agreed. She slung her arm around her maid of honor's waist and pointed a finger at him, saying, "That makes you the prince, Vin."

"Oh dear," he replied, dead-pan, sending both women into rounds of giggles.

"Cloud called," Yuffie informed him once she had recovered. "He said he's on his way with Sora and Roxas. Where's Leon?"

"He stopped off at home first to change. He should be here soon."

"Okay, great. As soon as they get here, we can start. Barrett said it won't take too long to run through everything."

Vincent nodded in understanding and then watched in amusement as, a moment later, Yuffie ran off to talk to someone else, again dragging Garnet along behind her. Left to his own devices, he decided to wander over to the large man who was sitting at a table pushed up against the wall, a young girl drawing in a coloring book at his feet. The man saw him coming and shoved a chair out with his foot in an invitation which Vincent gladly accepted.

"Good evening, Mr. Wallace," he greeted.

"Valentine," the man replied. He thumped the Bible on the table beside him with his one good hand. "Ya still plannin' on goin' through wit' it, kid? Ya still got some time ta change yer mind."

Calmly, Vincent leaned back in his seat and let his eyes roam over the various groups of people who had gathered for the rehearsal. "I imagine some people would be surprised to hear you say that to me," he commented, "considering you're the one who's going to marry us. Do you not think Yuffie and I will be happy?"

"Eh, I don't know 'bout that," the big ex-chaplain said with blunt honesty. "All I know is that Godo's kid is a hyperactive brat and anyone who wants ta marry her's gotta be insane."

Somehow, Vincent successfully held back the smile that threatened to take over his lips. "Indeed," he replied. "You have us pegged on both counts." The other man barked out a laugh and, since he couldn't reach to smack Vincent on the back, smacked the table instead.

_So, what did you think of Yuffie? … Personally, I think you're nuts, but as long as she makes you happy, who am I to make comments?_

Leon arrived a few minutes later and joined them at the table, although he chose to lean up against the nearby wall rather than sit. Demyx came over at one point to try to engage the three men in conversation, but Barrett scared him off before Vincent could politely suggest he go see if Yuffie needed him to do anything for her. Across the room, his father was chatting with Yuffie's mother, Yuffie's father was watching his daughter with so much pride that he seemed close to bursting, and Yuffie herself was bouncing around, chatting with everyone, and exuding such joy and excitement that the very air around her seemed to sparkle. By the time Cloud finally arrived with the twins, Vincent was having serious trouble keeping his smile in check.

_Ohmygawd, you just smiled! … I did not. … Yes, you did! I saw you! … No. … You did too! You did! … … … Yes, you did!_

"Yer late, Spike," Barrett accosted him as Cloud approached their table. "Didn't yer mama teach ya it's rude to keep other people waitin'?"

Cloud grimaced slightly with the obvious desire to tell the man that they were not, in fact, late, but he held his tongue. Sora had immediately bent down to talk to Barrett's daughter Marlene, so it was decided that he and Roxas would watch and entertain her while the rest of them ran through the ceremony. The big man took control immediately, barking orders with a voice that sounded more 'drill sergeant' than 'man of God', and soon they were all in place with Vincent, Cloud, and Leon at the front with Barrett and Demyx, Garnet, and Yuffie and Godo in the back. The rehearsal itself took all of fifteen minutes since Barrett skipped over practically everything, just making sure they knew where they were supposed to be, what they were supposed to do, and when they were supposed to do it.

Afterwards, they migrated as a group to the hotel restaurant where Yuffie had reserved a small private room. Once everyone had ordered and drinks had been served, both fathers insisted on giving speeches in honor of the soon-to-be bride and groom, and once that was over, the room quickly filled with the pleasant buzz of conversation. Vincent sat, with Yuffie on one side and Cloud on the other, and simply listened. The contemplative, nostalgic mood that he had been in all day still lingered, and as the words washed over him from all sides, he let his thoughts wander wherever they wished.

"Vincent was always quiet, even as a child, and so very well-behaved. He always came home from school and went straight to his room to do his homework at his desk."

"Yuffie was the exact opposite. Sometimes, I had to forcibly sit her in a chair and then stand there with my hands on her shoulders to get her to do her homework. That girl simply could not sit still."

"They're quite different, aren't they? Although they do say 'opposites attract'."

"I think if whoever coined that phrase met them, he'd still be surprised and dumbfounded."

_I don't understand how the two of you work, but you do. Yuffie's good for you, and you're good for her._

"I know what Sora wants for Christmas next year: a baby sister."

"Oh yeah! Seriously, can I have one?"

"Geez, I was kidding, you dork."

_She lost the baby again. That makes three. … I'm so sorry. How is she? … Not as upset as I expected, actually. She's been talking about adopting. I'm thinking maybe it's a good idea._

"So did Yuffie tell you we got you a date for tomorrow?"

"W-w-what?"

"That's a no, then. Well, don't worry, he's really nice. His name's Zidane. He's an actor."

"But I don't … I don't need … a date …"

"Oh, we know you don't need one, but everyone else has one and Yuffie and I thought it would be nice for you to have someone to talk with and dance with, especially since you're from out of town. Like I said, he's really nice. A bit hyper at times, but only about as bad as me. He's nowhere on the level of Yuffie, so since you're used to her, you'll be fine. And we told him to treat you like a princess, although I just asked. Yuffie more sort of threatened."

"But … but I …"

_Resistance is useless._

"I met Mrs. Highwind today. Cid left some drawings at home and she didn't know whether he would need them or not, so she brought them in. He had no idea she was coming, either. He's right in the middle of talking to Xigbar about hiring dancing girls to make our meetings more interesting, and she walks in. I'm not sure that I should be impressed or worried that she didn't even bat an eyelid. She didn't flinch when he yelled at her for not calling before coming in either, just took it, then warned him about his blood pressure and went to make him some tea."

"You certainly work at an interesting place."

"You're telling me. I was a little worried when I took Fenrir to work this morning since I didn't know what Cid would think of me showing up on such an unprofessional vehicle. He was practically drooling over it all morning. I think he wanted to take it apart, although he would have had to have gotten through me first."

"Yeah, Cloud, about that bike …"

_I'm thinking of changing jobs. I've found something, down by you actually, that looks promising. I think it'll be a good opportunity for both me and the boys._

"Vince? … Vincent."

Turning, he found Yuffie's dark eyes on him, a little crease between her eyebrows. "You aren't talking," she observed when she noticed she had his attention. "Are you okay?"

Vincent smiled at her. He was far more than okay. He was happier than he ever thought he'd be, happier than he thought possible. He was looking forward to life with her. For the first time in a long time, he was optimistic about his future. He didn't feel comfortable telling her this though, not here, so he merely said, "Yes," knowing that she would understand.

She returned his smile, and in her eyes he could see that she had heard all the words that he had not spoken. "Good," she replied. "I'm glad." She turned back to her conversation with her mother, but not before she had grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers. He ran his thumb gently over the back of her hand. It was warm and soft, and tomorrow it would have a second ring nestled beneath the diamond that sat on it now.

_Yuffie, I love you._

_I'm in love with you which means you're stuck, Valentine, so you'd better get used to it._

_I don't want to be without you anymore._

_There's no way I'm letting you out of my life._

_Yuffie Kisaragi, Warrior Princess of Wutai, will you marry me?_

Smiling, Vincent sat back in his seat and closed his eyes.


	48. Cloud

_The seats are hard. The room is stark and bare but for what is absolutely needed. One of the fluorescent lights is buzzing. There are other people in the room, but no one looks at each other. No one smiles. Everything around him feels sterile and depressing._

_As a guy, he didn't really think much about his wedding day, but on those few times he did, he always imagined something closer to the stereotypical. This is nothing like those fleeting dreams. Today, there are no flowers, no music, no friends to wish them well and no family other than their mothers, sitting close by and talking quietly to each other. His mother is undoubtedly bemoaning the fact that neither of them had fathers growing up and stating that that has led to their situation now. Her mother is listening without comment. Occasionally, her eyes stray to her daughter who sits beside him. She is wearing pink, not white, holds no bouquet, and has no veil other than the curtains of her unbound hair that falls around her downturned face. He can only imagine what her dreams for this day once were._

_When their turn arrives, all four of them go to meet the judge. The woman tries to be pleasant - she smiles and congratulates them - but it is easy to see that she wants to finish with them as quickly as possible and move on. Her schedule is full; she has little time for teenagers getting married. A few signatures and well wishes and they are done. They leave quickly and quietly, by all appearances exactly the same as when they arrived, except now they are Mr. and Mrs. Strife, legally bound in matrimony._

_As they walk towards the entrance of the building, their mothers before them, she stays beside him, her head hanging and her eyes on the ground. Gently, he reaches out and takes her limp hand. She tries to pull away, but he will not let her go._

_"Don't," he whispers to her. "No regrets."_

_"Cloud," she whispers back, her voice heavy with unshed tears, "I -"_

_"No," he interrupts her. He knows what she is going to say; she has said nothing else for days. "No apologies. Not on your wedding day."_

_Her breath hitches several times, as if she is trying to speak but cannot. His heart goes out to her, and he wishes he could somehow make it better for her. None of this is what she wanted, not this day and not him. He wanted to at least give her a church wedding, but they cannot afford it and both of their mothers insisted that, if they were going to get married, they do it immediately due to the baby. This was all he could give her. This and the rings they now wore._

_Suddenly, an idea hits him, and he impulsively pulls her to the side, up against the wall where they can have a measure of privacy in this crowded place of law and punishment. Her surprised green eyes widen even further when he takes off his ring and then pulls hers off as well. However, before she can say anything in question or protest, he is holding her hand again, her ring in his fingers, poised to slip it back on._

_"I, Cloud Strife," he says quietly, slowly replacing her ring, "take you, Aerith Gainsborough, to be my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part." And then, hoping that he remembered most if not all of the standard vows, he holds out his ring to her._

_Somewhere around her name, she realized what he was doing, and now her eyes are shining in tearful gratitude. Taking the ring from him, she answers, "I, Aerith Gainsborough, take you, Cloud Strife, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part." She slips the ring on his finger and then throws her arms around his neck, puts her head down on his shoulder, and cries._

_He holds her tightly and rests his head against hers. Gently, just before he places his lips against her temple, he whispers, "You may now kiss the bride."_

xXx

Through all the years that Cloud had known Vincent, he had never seen his dark friend nervous or overly anxious about anything. The man rode plane after plane without batting an eyelash - Cloud himself hated the things - and could give a presentation to an entire company without a single stutter or bead of sweat. In school, he had never stressed over deadlines, worried over tests, or paid a single shred of attention to what other people thought of him. He went through every day wearing a cloak of calm detachment, seemingly not caring about a thing. For years, Cloud had envied his cool demeanor and his iron nerves.

On the morning of his wedding, however, Vincent was a wreck, and Cloud was equal parts amazed, amused, and frustrated as hell.

"Are you sure it's on straight?" his best friend asked for the fifth time in fifteen minutes, referring to his bowtie.

"Yes," Cloud answered without even looking. He was working on his own tie, having had to do up Sora's and Roxas's first so that they could run out and be ready to escort any early guests to their seats. "Seriously, Vince," he asked a moment later, "why do you even care? No one's going to be looking at you anyway. They'll all be looking at Yuffie."

"Yuffie will be looking at me," Vincent replied, grabbing a comb and using it on his hair yet again.

"She loves you," Leon commented from a nearby chair. "She won't care what you look like." He had finished dressing ages ago, the bastard, and was just sitting around and watching Cloud try to simultaneously get himself ready and keep Vincent from falling apart.

"But a woman's wedding day is supposed to be the most important day of her life," Vincent argued. He put the comb down and stared at himself in the mirror, his nervous eyes darting all over himself, looking for flaws. "I don't want to be the one not-perfect thing that ruins it for her."

"And you won't! Trust us." Abandoning his tie for the moment, Cloud turned on his friend and stated, "Vince, you've got two gay men as your attendants. If we both say you look great, you look great. And you look great. Doesn't he, Leon?"

"Gorgeous," the addressed man answered with a little smirk of amusement. "She won't be able to take her eyes off you."

Vincent glanced back and forth between them, slowly seeming to calm down. "All right," he finally answered in a tone that resembled his normal one. "If you say so." He turned back to the mirror, gazing at himself with more confidence. Thinking that his friend had finally been soothed enough that he would be able to finish his damn tie, Cloud turned back to his own mirror, suppressing a sigh of relief. But then:

"There isn't any lint on the back of my jacket, is there?"

The frustrated blond groaned and gripped the hair on the side of his head with both hands. "Get out of here!" he ordered, growling slightly. "Go find Barrett and see if there's anything he needs help with."

"But -"

"Do it, Vince, before I undo that perfectly straight tie of yours and strangle you with it!"

Vincent complied, and when the door finally closed behind his possibly-soon-to-be-ex best friend, Cloud rested his hands against the dressing table, leaned heavily on them, and breathed slowly through his nose. He was so focused on controlling his urge to throttle something, or more specifically someone, that he barely noticed when Leon rose to his feet and came up behind him, chuckling softly.

"I wonder if any other groom has been chased out of his own dressing room before," the other man said with obvious humor.

"I'm going to kill him," Cloud snarled, pulling another laugh from Leon. "Five years I've known him, and he's never once been like this, not even when he was drunk." He paused for another calming breath, then mused, "Wonder if he's been drinking."

"At this hour of the morning? I doubt it." Leon's hands were suddenly on his shoulders, pulling gently. "Stand up. I'll do that tie for you."

He could have protested that he knew damn well how to tie a tie having done both of his sons', but he was feeling drained at the moment and so complied. As Leon's forearms draped over his shoulders so his hands could reach, Cloud continued to complain, "It's not like Yuffie's even going to care if he has a speck of dust on him or if a hair is out of place. And she's the one who should be nervous. She has to walk down the aisle in a huge dress and heels without tripping or dropping anything. All he has to do is stand in one place and wait for her to get to him."

"And remember to bend his knees."

"And remember to bend his knees," Cloud agreed, rolling his eyes. "Oh God, I'm going to have to remind him of that all through the ceremony, aren't I? 'Cause if I don't, he'll lock up and faint on us."

"He may faint on us anyway," Leon joked, smoothing out the ends of the now-tied tie. He moved his hands back but rested them on Cloud's shoulders rather than pull them away.

"I swear I have never seen him like this, not in all the years I've known him."

"Well, love does funny things to us sometimes."

Perhaps it was Leon's words or perhaps the way he said them, but something made Cloud pause and look at their two reflections in the mirror before him. He had been too irritated to notice before, but they were standing rather close together. Leon's hands were a comfortable weight against his shoulders, and the man's breath warmed his neck with every exhalation. He could just barely feel the presence of Leon's body against the back of his own, and Cloud's senses quickly began to awaken and stir at the intimate sensation.

It was so hard to believe that less than a year had gone by since he had called Vincent to say he was coming into town and ask if he or Yuffie could meet him and the boys at the airport. This time last year, he had been a married man, living with a woman who was his friend but not his lover and mourning a love that he knew he would never have again. So much had changed since then, so much had been returned to him, and while he wished with all his heart that he could have shared his newfound happiness with Aerith, he knew that she wouldn't begrudge him a single breath of it. He knew that she would have been happy just to see him happy after all this time. And being with Leon again did make him happy, indescribably so.

The Leon in the mirror smirked as if he knew exactly what was going on in Cloud's mind and dipped his head to place a single kiss on the skin below the blond's ear, just behind the junction of his jaw. The unexpected caress sent a shiver of pleasure through Cloud's body, forcing all the air from him in a single, slightly vocalized rush. His senses, previously only mildly stirring, went roaring into overdrive, sending sparks singing through his bloodstream. He could feel every inching movement of Leon's hands as they slowly slid down his arms, and even with his eyes closed, he knew from the curve of the other man's lips against his neck that he was smiling at his reaction.

When Leon turned him around to kiss him soundly a moment later, Cloud didn't resist, although he did try to keep enough awareness about him to make sure neither of them messed up their tuxes. Leon seemed to be thinking the same thing, for, although his hands roamed Cloud's body as they kissed, they didn't pull anywhere or run against the natural flow of the fabric. In fact, in spite of the fact that his tongue seemed intent on exploring every crevice of Cloud's mouth, he kept the kiss gentle and tantalizingly slow, calming all of Cloud's initial fiery impulses and soothing them into a gently simmering, full-body warmth. When Leon finally pulled away, Cloud felt so satisfied and so thoroughly de-stressed that he imagined he could melt right there where he stood.

And then Leon lowered his head to gaze into his eyes with his stormy gray ones and asked him a question.

Cloud's heart stopped. Mouth hanging open from shock, he blinked a couple of times and then, certain he had heard wrong, asked back, "What?"

Leon's smile was a little bit smug, but it was still sincere and even, maybe, a little nervous. "I said, 'Be my boyfriend?'"

His heart had remembered how to function, and it was beating twice as fast as normal to make up for lost time. "You … you want me to be your boyfriend?" he stammered. "Officially?"

"Yes."

He wanted to believe, but he had to make absolutely sure. "So you forgive me?"

There was no hesitation or doubt in Leon's voice, none at all. "Yes."

"And you trust me?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I trust you, and I forgive you."

Cloud felt faint. He was shaking, actually _shaking_ with emotion. He had told himself as day after day went by that he was happy just being with Leon, just having him in his life again. They went on dates and kissed sometimes and Leon had told him that he loved him, and Cloud had told himself that that was more than enough. He had told himself that he was content to wait, content to accept what he was given and not ask for more. And it had been enough, it truly had, but now, _now_ , he didn't have to wait anymore and the joy and relief were about to consume him. He was here, in Leon's arms, and Leon was here, looking at him with love and anticipation and a tiny hint of fear, and if he didn't do something soon, he was going to cry and that was completely unacceptable.

In a desperate attempt to keep himself from breaking down, he joked, "It's the tux, right? You said if Tifa wanted to get me laid, she should have put me in a suit."

Leon laughed, unknowingly sending waves of soothing strength into Cloud's trembling body. "No, it's not the tux," he assured him with a mild grin. Then, he lowered his eyes and confided, "Actually, I've been ready for about a month, but I wanted to ask you today. It seemed like an appropriate time to do it."

"Ha, I should have known. First the rose petals and now this. You are a complete closet romantic."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Just don't tell anyone. So …" Those gray eyes lifted once again and fixed themselves on Cloud's face with hopeful expectation. "… will you?"

Cloud smiled. He had taken a step back at his initial shock, but at the repeat of Leon's question, he closed the distance between them and gently slid his arms around the brunet's neck. "Yes," he whispered and leaned in.

Unlike their previous kiss which had been gentle and careful, this one quickly became wanting and hungry, their need to stay presentable fading away before their need to touch and taste each other. Cloud's entire body was thrumming with pleasure, and he pressed it firmly against Leon's, desperate to feel every inch of this man whom he utterly adored. Something hard pressed against his chest, and even with two layers of dress shirts separating them, Cloud knew instantly what it was: Griever. A spike of joy and arousal shot up through him at the discovery. He knew Leon wore it often now, he had seen the man wearing it on all of their dates, but the fact that he had worn it today, under his formal clothes, thrilled him like none of the previous times had. Instantly, he released his double-fisted grip on the brunet's hair to slide one hand down Leon's chest until it reached the hidden pendant. Finger-touches gentle and light, he traced the outline of the necklace and then began to stroke it slowly as if petting the fierce lion, or perhaps petting something else.

Leon groaned, understanding at once, and his hands slid from their position on Cloud's hips to cup him from behind and pull him closer and slightly higher. Their kiss broke, and Cloud tilted his head, thinking that Leon was going for his neck. Instead, he felt warm lips close around his earlobe and a wet tongue curl around the silver wolf that he had worn constantly since Christmas. In the cold winter months when he had been unable to ride his bike, he had come to view the earring as an extension of Fenrir and therefore an extension of himself, much as Griever had always been for Leon. Now, Leon was returning the sweetly tortuous caress Cloud had just given with his own symbolism, and it was Cloud's turn to groan with rapidly escalating desire. Using the hand he still had wrapped in the other man's hair, he yanked the brunet head backwards so he could kiss him again, his other hand diving under Leon's cummerbund, looking for an access point to the man's skin. Leon clearly agreed with this sentiment as one of his hands was now under his tux jacket, trying to pull his shirt out of his pants, and the other was attempting to slide down said pants to hold him without any bothersome fabric in between.

It's entirely possible they would have undressed each other completely, or at least enough to satisfy their desperate desires, had a gentle throat clearing not caused them both to stop. Still entangled with one another, they turned towards the door to find Vincent standing there, looking not so much shocked as bemused. Once he was certain he had their attention, the groom looked at his best man and raised a single eyebrow in question.

"Um," Cloud faltered, trying to piece the words together after being so close to completely losing it a moment before, "we're … we're back together. Officially."

"I see," Vincent answered benevolently. He nodded at Leon who had yet to remove his hand from underneath Cloud's shirt. "Congratulations," he said. "I'm quite happy for you. Unfortunately, I'm supposed to get married in half an hour and the guests are arriving and I kind of need some ushers." He gave them a pleading look that said that while he was fighting his nerves for their sake, they sure as hell hadn't gone away and finished, "So if you could hold off on the back-together sex until after the ceremony, I'd really appreciate it."

Both men immediately dropped each other and ran back to their respective mirrors to fix their clothes and hair. Leon cursed softly when he discovered that his boutonnière was slightly crushed, but Cloud's was okay for which he was grateful. He almost burst out laughing, though, when he realized his tie was messed up and would have to be redone.

Considering Leon had been slightly more eager in regards to removing clothes, his new boyfriend was long gone by the time Cloud succeeded in fixing himself up and making himself presentable again. Knowing that Vincent would just worry himself to death otherwise, he tracked down the groom's mother and asked her to keep him calm and distracted before heading to the main room to join the other ushers. While he knew he probably looked like an idiot, he simply could not remove the smile from his face as he walked. He was still too keyed up, still buzzed from the kisses, and just too overjoyed in general to put on a neutral face.

Once he exited the elevator and headed towards the main banquet hall, he began to notice people in semi-formal dress milling about in the hallway: guests not yet ready to be seated. Most of the faces were unfamiliar, but he recognized a few of them, in particular the Kinneas family who were allowing their little one the freedom to move around and be noisy for as long as possible before asking her to sit still and be quiet for a long period of time. There was one guest, however, whom he had not noticed but who had noticed him. He had little warning, only a glimpse of long dark hair and sparkling eyes, before he found his arms full of busty brunette as Tifa assaulted him from out of nowhere.

"Cloud!" she cried as she threw her arms around his neck. "You look fantastic!"

"Ah, thanks," he replied, trying to regain his balance and at least some of his composure. "Careful of the boutonnière."

"Oh, sorry." She checked his flowers for him, straightening them a bit, and then grinned up at him merrily, apparently not a bit concerned that she had nearly knocked him over. "Guess who else is here?" she demanded. Before he could answer, she had dashed away only to return a moment later, this time pulling along a second person who looked extremely wary and unsure of himself.

For the second time in half an hour, Cloud's mouth fell open in shock. "Zack?"

He was older and his hair was a little longer, but it was definitely the same Zack who grinned at him sheepishly and scratched at the back of his head with one hand. "Heya, Cloud," he said. "Long time no see, huh?" He laughed nervously, deep blue eyes darting to Tifa and then back to him again. Cloud was too shocked and delighted to say anything, although apparently only the first emotion showed on his face. "Look, Cloud," his one-time best friend said, grimacing slightly, "I'm really sorry about everything that's happened. Tifa told me all about it when she found me. About you and … and Aer." He blew out a breath and hung his head, scratching at his hair again in obvious unease. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for any of that to happen to either of you."

Finally, Cloud managed to shake off his surprise, and he smiled at the man he thought he'd never see again. "It's okay, Zack," he said, feeling something close to peacefulness spreading through him. "I know."

But the other man refused the implied forgiveness. "No," he insisted, lifting earnest eyes to him, "it isn't okay. I abandoned you guys when you needed me. I should have at least kept in touch with you. It's just that …" He hesitated, eyes lowering again, and scuffed one foot on the floor in mild embarrassment. "I loved Aer," he confessed, "but not as much as she loved me. I realized in college that I wasn't ready to get married to anyone and I had no idea when I would be, if ever. I didn't want to make her wait for me if there was a chance she'd be waiting indefinitely. I wanted to let her at least have the chance to date other guys, you know. So I decided to let her go. And, well, I had heard somewhere that when you break up with a girl, it's actually worse to be friends because then she holds on to the possibility that you'll get back together and doesn't move forward at all. I didn't want that happening to Aer, so I decided that the best thing for her would be for me to just disappear from her life and from yours and Tifa's as well." He paused, and a moment later, laughed sadly, closing his eyes as if to ward off the memories. "But I screwed up, didn't I?" he asked, shaking his head. "It's like they say, 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions.'"

"Zack …"

"And you know, the thing is," Zack continued, ignoring Cloud's attempt at interruption, "I've wanted to contact you guys again for a while now, but I didn't know how to do it. I mean, I figured you all hated me for what I did and that was _before_ I knew about you marrying Aer instead of me." He grimaced again and unconsciously tried to take a step away from both Cloud and Tifa, but the woman's hand on his arm kept him from going far. "Ang and Gen have been saying for years now that I should just buck up and do it and if I get the brush off, then I get the brush off but at least I've tried, but even with them bugging me about it, I never seemed to be able to find the time or the courage or whatever to actually do it. And then Tifa actually found _me_ instead of the other way around, and that just made me feel even worse, especially after she told me everything that's happened these past six years. She swears that neither of you are mad at me and she even convinced me to come here with her today, but I have to admit I keep expecting one of you to deck me. I mean, honestly Cloud, if I were you, I wouldn't forgive me. Hell, after everything I've done, if I were you I'd want to punch my lights out or something."

Considering that Zack had bulldozered over his first attempt to get a word in edgewise, Cloud had decided to simply wait until the older man ran out of breath and had settled back on his heels, arms crossed, to do so. The nonstop flow of words didn't bother or surprise him - Zack apparently hadn't changed a bit - but the direction the man's monologue had taken towards the end did. Now, as the other man paused to inhale, he asked in a neutral voice, "You want me to punch you?"

"Well, don't you think I deserve it?" Zack asked back, blue eyes flashing as they rose to meet his. "I sure think I do. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have been forced to marry Aer. If I had stuck around, stayed in contact with everyone, I could have helped to make it easier on her. I could have prevented all of this, or at least been there to help if it happened anyway. I ruined your life, Cloud," he insisted, gesturing wildly with his free hand as he became more and more upset. "I did. The person who was supposed to be your best friend. I ruined both of your lives with my stupid, selfish decisions. If anyone should have been hurt from my actions, it should have been me, but I've been just fine all these years while you and Aer have suffered nonstop from the moment I left. And now I can't even make it up to you because Aer is … she's …"

Face contorting in pain, Zack looked away again, his body trying to follow but stopped by the now two-handed grip that Tifa had on him. "I don't deserve to be forgiven," he finished quietly. "Not after all I did. All I deserve now is a black eye and a kick in the pants."

Cloud stared at his old friend for a long moment, merely watching him and thinking. Then, he uncrossed his arms, dropping them lightly to his sides, and said sharply, "Well, if you say so." And when Zack lifted his head to stare at him in surprise, he pulled back one arm, fisted his hand tightly, and socked the older man square across the jaw, sending him tumbling to the ground.

"Cloud!" Tifa shrieked, while several other women surrounding them screeched in varying degrees of shock and horror as well. Yet, before anyone could jump him to 'hold him back' or otherwise come to the rescue, Cloud took a step forward and held out that same hand, palm up in a friendly gesture of assistance.

"Feel better?" he asked with a smile. When Zack just stared up at him from the floor, Cloud explained, "It looked to me like you weren't going to stop feeling sorry for yourself until I punched you. Now that I have, will you shut up for a minute and listen to me?"

Slowly, one hand holding his injured jaw, Zack nodded. Retracting his own hand for the moment, Cloud told him, "You may have broken Aerith's heart, Zack, but all the decisions she and I made afterwards were our own responsibility. It's not your fault. We all missed you and it would have been nice to have you around these past six years, but none of us blamed you for any of what happened. And you didn't ruin anyone's life. Yes, Aerith was sad for a long while, but the last three years, she was very happy. She and I had two wonderful, loving sons to brighten our days, and if it weren't for you, we never would have found them. I'm not going to try to stop you from feeling guilty, but as far as forgiveness goes, you should know that I forgave you years ago."

His old friend blinked at him, blue eyes full of disbelief and hope. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," he smiled and offered his hand a second time. "Now get up. I want to introduce you to my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Tifa echoed as Zack took his hand and he hauled the other man to his feet. "Really, Cloud?"

Cloud just grinned and offered her his arm to lead her inside.

A little less than half an hour later, Cloud stood at the altar end of the banquet hall, Leon on one side, Vincent on the other, the three of them facing towards the back of the room as Sora and Roxas escorted the bride's and groom's mothers down the aisle created by the two blocks of folding chairs on either side. The twins seated the women with gentlemanly attention, then went to their own reserved seats in the front row. As the focus of the entire room shifted to the back once more, Cloud leaned forward a bit to whisper to Vincent to remember to bend his knees before shifting his own weight to make sure he kept his own advice. He also took that opportunity to slip his hand into his jacket pocket and check for probably the twentieth time that he still had the rings. If they had been in a box, he knew he wouldn't be so paranoid about them, but Barrett had insisted that they be loose for easier access. Cloud hadn't argued; even though he would never admit it, the man intimidated him.

Demyx came down the aisle first, grinning from ear to ear and holding his hands in front of him as if he were carrying an invisible bouquet. Garnet came next, actually holding a bouquet and looking absolutely stunning in her green bridesmaid dress. Then, once Garnet was in place beside Demyx next to the table that Barrett had draped with a cloth and called an altar, the music changed and the entire room shifted focus again, back to the empty entranceway, and waited.

Yuffie's father stepped into the opening first, tall and stately in his tuxedo. Grandly, he lifted his arm, elbow up in the classic offering pose. A heartbeat passed, and Yuffie appeared. Her dress was strapless, showing off her slender arms and graceful neckline, and the beaded bodice beautifully hid the fact that she was rather slender there as well. Rather than go with a poofy tulle for the bottom, she had chosen an elegant, streamlined satin that flowed around her legs as she walked and shimmered with thousands of delicately woven-in sequins. Instead of a headband with a forward veil, she wore a simple crown of flowers with the veil falling straight behind it, reaching to halfway down her back like an ethereal extension of her own hair. She looked utterly stunning, even to Cloud who had never been able to look at her without thinking 'tomboy'. As for Vincent, he had released a shuddering sigh upon seeing her and, as she walked toward him, seemed to forget how to breathe. Cloud hissed at him a few times under his breath and finally resorted to kicking him lightly in the ankle until he was sure his friend had remembered how to both inhale and exhale.

The ceremony itself was pretty much the same as all the others he had seen. Barrett's delivery of the traditional lines still bordered on the clipped and military, but the man truly seemed to believe in the words he spoke and had such a commanding presence that he held everyone captivated. The exchange of rings went smoothly, and both Vincent and Yuffie spoke their vows with enough strength that everyone could hear them, although Yuffie's were laced with the beginnings of tears. Before Cloud knew it, he was applauding the newly married couple as they exited down the aisle and then offering his arm to Garnet to follow them. Out in the hallway, they formed the receiving line and shook everyone's hand as they exited, and then, once the room had cleared, the photographer ushered them all back inside for pictures where they spent the next twenty minutes posing in various groups and smiling until it felt like their faces would crack.

And if anyone noticed that the best man and the second groomsman held hands whenever they were in a picture together, no one said a word.


	49. Leon

_It is a usual lunch on a usual school day at their usual table with his usual companions. He doesn't call them 'friends' since he doesn't think the word fits in their case, but they are more than people he merely tolerates. They are people who hang around him, who seem to care about him, and about whom, in a small way, he cares as well._

_Selphie has a bridal magazine spread out in front of her as she eats, her eyes hungrily devouring the dresses on each page. "So pretty," she sighs to herself. "Oh, look at that one … ooo! And that one! … So, so pretty." She sighs again and rests her head in her hand dreamily. "Zell," she asks after a moment, "go to the prom with me?"_

_Surprised, the boy in question looks up with a mouthful of half-eaten hotdog. "Huh?" he responds, then swallows before continuing, "But it's November. The prom is in the spring."_

_"I know," Selphie replies, her eyes still on her magazine, "but I want to buy my dress now."_

_"So buy it now."_

_"I can't buy it until I know who I'm going with!"_

_"Why not?"_

_"So I know if the color scheme is right for his complexion."_

_He snorts in spite of himself although he doubts anyone hears it over Zell's scoff of disbelief. "That's ridiculous," the blond states with conviction. "Sorry, Selph, but I'm not committing to anything this early. I'll take you if I'm still free, but I may have a girlfriend by then."_

_Selphie raises one eyebrow in a classic "And what have_ **_you_ ** _been smoking?" expression. He keeps his face as blank as ever, but he has to admit he agrees with her._

_"What? It could happen."_

_"Sure it could, Zellie. Sure it could."_

_"It could."_

_"I hate to say this, Zell, but I think it's more likely Squall will get a girlfriend before you do."_

_The statement makes the blond pout and tear apart bits of hotdog bun with his fingers. A moment later, however, Zell has recovered and is looking at him with a grin on his face. "That reminds me … Squall, I know this great girl, and she wants to meet you. You should let me set you two up."_

_He doesn't bother to lift his eyes from his lunch. "No."_

_"But she's gorgeous, and really smart, too. I really think you'd like her if you'd just -"_

_"No."_

_"But seriously, if you'd only -"_

_"I'm gay."_

_The statement, spoken so off-handedly, has all the subtlety of an atomic bomb. For a long, silent moment, Zell and Selphie just look at him, not knowing whether to believe him or not. Then, Selphie throws her hands up in the air and sighs in frustration. "I don't believe this!" she cries. "I finally get a gay boyfriend, and it's Squall. This is so totally not fair."_

_Shocked, both boys stare at her openly. "Wait a minute," Zell interrupts before she can say more. "Are you serious? You're not flipping out because Squall's gay or because he just told us with about as much warning or concern as someone talking about the weather. You're upset because it's … him?" His brow furrows heavily in obvious confusion. "What?"_

_Selphie sighs at Zell like he's an idiot, and although he sometimes agrees with that assessment, he is rather confused himself about what's going on in the brunette girl's head. "Gays are supposed to be flamboyant and artsy," she states firmly. "They're supposed to be interested in dresses and design and musical theater. Squall is …" She waves her hand, looking for a proper description and failing. "… Squall. I don't want him. I want someone who'll go shoe shopping with me and gossip about boys and clothes. Can you see Squall belting out Cher? I don't think so."_

_If he were someone else, he might be upset or offended by all that. Thankfully, he is who he is, and he's quite used to Selphie by now. "Whatever," he says and returns to his lunch without another word._

_Next to him, Zell shakes his head at her and sums up the situation in one short sentence: "You're crazy."_

_"No I'm not! Ask any girl. She'll tell you the same thing."_

_"Then all girls are crazy. Oh, and speaking of, I still need someone to set my girl up with." He lifts his eyes and smiles as his gaze falls on a passing classmate. "Hey, Nida!" he calls, getting out of his seat to chase the other boy down._

_"We're not crazy," Selphie insists and sticks her tongue out at the blond's retreating back. Then, she turns her angry eyes to him. "Right, Squall?"_

_He ignores her. And when she tries again, he ignores her some more. After a few more minutes of this, she throws some pretzels at his head and sulkily goes back to her lunch. He continues eating without pause._

_Just a usual lunch on a usual day._

xXx

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Vincent Valentine!"

Leon applauded along with the rest of the guests as the bride and groom entered the banquet hall, Yuffie obviously enjoying the attention more than Vincent was. As little as he cared for wedding dresses or for fashion in general, he had to admit that his former employee looked exceedingly beautiful. It was strange, and a little bit sad, to see Yuffie who often he thought of as little more than an overgrown child looking so grown-up and so much like a woman. At least, he had thought several times during the ceremony, Vincent would take care of her and protect her; no one who remained here after she had left would have to worry about her safety or her happiness.

As he took his seat again, he noticed Cloud fidgeting slightly, his eyes following the happy couple as they made a quick round of the room to dispense hugs and kisses to family members and friends. It took a few seconds for Leon to deduce what was wrong, but once he had he felt himself smiling in sympathy. Carefully, he slid a hand along the table and slid his fingers between Cloud's nervously twitching ones. When blue eyes turned to meet his, he offered a smile and a slow nod of the head in support. Cloud understood his meaning at once and gave him a smile of his own in return.

Together, they waited patiently for Yuffie and Vincent to make their way to the bridal party's table and sit down in their seats. Once they had, Cloud gave Leon's hand a quick squeeze and then released it as he rose to his feet. It took a few seconds for the various conversations within the room to die down, but soon all eyes were on the blond in silent expectation.

"Welcome, everyone," Cloud began with a smile that effectively hid his extreme dislike of public speaking. "Thank you all for being here today to celebrate Vincent and Yuffie's special day. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Cloud, Vince's best man and his close friend for the past five years. As I'm sure you know, this is the part of the night where I give a short speech about my friendship with Vince, adding a few embarrassing anecdotes if possible, talk about my thoughts on him and Yuffie, and offer them some relationship advice. It may surprise you to hear that I actually _have_ a few of those anecdotes considering how dull Vin often comes across as, but unfortunately, I rather value my friendship with this man so I'm not going to relate any of them today. And yes, Yuffie," he added when the bride pouted at him, "you know them all already so don't give me that face. You were the _cause_ of most of them in fact.

"As for the rest of it," Cloud continued when the laughter had died down, "I realize it's the traditional way to go about this speech, but in the case of this couple, I don't feel that it's necessary." He turned to the two of them and, with a gentle smile on his face, stated, "I don't need to tell you to enjoy the time you have together because, after years of enduring a long distance relationship, I know that both of you know how to get the most out of every little moment. And I don't need to warn you about the bumps in the road that will come later or advise you to persevere through them because, after all of the troubles and hardships that you've already worked through together, I doubt there's anything that married life can throw at you that you would find even slightly difficult to overcome. You understand as well as any of us the importance of compromise, of listening to each other, and of holding on to yourself and to what you believe. Truly, you two should be the ones offering marriage advice to us." Another ripple of laughter flowed through the room, but it died down quickly as Cloud continued on without pause. "This day is less the beginning of a new stage of your life and more the reward for winning the countless hard-fought battles that tried to take this moment from you. You are two of the strongest people I know, and I will never be able to express in words how proud I am of you or how honored I am to call both of you my friends."

Leon was not surprised to see that Yuffie was close to bawling at this point, nor was he surprised to see the shine in Cloud's eyes as the blond turned back to the room at large and lifted his champagne glass in toast. "To Vincent and Yuffie," he finished strongly. "May they have the lifetime of happiness and love that they so rightfully deserve."

"To Vincent and Yuffie," Leon chorused along with the rest of the guests, ignoring his own glass in favor of reaching out for Cloud's and snagging it seconds before the bride crashed into him and proceeded to sob violently into his shoulder. To be honest, Leon was surprised she had made it all the way through; it had been, in his opinion, a very fine speech indeed.

"Yuffie," Cloud murmured soothingly to her, "you'll ruin your makeup."

"I don't care!" the woman wailed, clutching onto him like a lifeline. "That was … I'm … you're … _waaaaahhhh!_ "

Swallowing down what would undoubtedly be an inappropriate laugh, Leon left Cloud to deal with this problem by himself and looked around the room instead. The wait-staff had taken the end of the best man speech as the signal to begin serving salads, so most of the guests had begun to eat and talk amongst themselves. Leon let his eyes wander over the tables, one by one.

There, at one table, were all four of his cousins together which seemed, to Leon, to be a disaster waiting to happen. Kadaj appeared to be the only one who had brought an otherwise uninvited date, and Kairi looked perfectly at ease even though she was the only female at the table. Riku's date, of course, was Sora and Loz and Yazoo had come singly, so Yuffie had rounded out the table by including Roxas and his date. Leon had heard about the possibility of the boy dating Axel and had tried to make his opinions known before the ceremony. Unfortunately, he had gotten only as far as "I hear you're planning on dating my boyfriend's son" before he had been tackled by both Roxas and Sora in a fit of ear-splitting happiness.

Another table held Zell and Selphie and their respective families as well as Tifa and the dark-haired man she had brought as her date. Leon knew next to nothing about Zack, but he had seemed nice enough when they had met and Cloud had been ecstatic to introduce them. Rounding out their table were the dates of Yuffie's attendants. He and Cloud had not brought dates, but Yuffie and Demyx had set Garnet up with Zidane from the theater where Axel worked, and Demyx had brought Zexion. When Leon had found out that Demyx's stalker was actually Vexen's reserved teaching assistant, he had been equal parts surprised, angry, and relieved. A large part of him wanted to take the graduate student aside and ask, for someone who was supposedly extremely smart, how could he be so mind-bogglingly stupid? For Demyx's sake, however, he refrained and allowed himself to trust in the musician to work out any lingering problems himself. In the end, the most important thing was that his friend and roommate was smiling again with as much life and energy as ever.

Most of the other tables were filled with people he either didn't know or had only met recently: family members and friends from school. One table near the back, however, held a face with which he was very familiar. He had been surprised to learn that Yuffie had invited the man himself as well as his four sons, but he supposed it made sense considering the two white-haired men with whom his uncle sat. Leon knew that one was a heart surgeon and the other a criminal psychologist and that both dabbled in investing in or outright owning hotels and restaurants around the town, but he couldn't for the life of him remember which was which or which one owned this actual hotel. He supposed it didn't matter. If he weren't actually related to Sephiroth, not one of the rich bastards would have given him or any of his friends the time of day.

A pretty waitress with a sixty-watt smile set down a plate of salad in front of him. Leon thanked her with a nod and began to eat.

Dinner progressed in a comfortable enough fashion. Since he was at the end of the one-sided rectangular table, he didn't even try to enter any conversations, choosing instead to simply listen to the others talk. Once the main part of the meal had finished and the plates were being cleared away, the DJ announced the traditional dances including Yuffie and Vincent's first dance, her dance with her father, and his with his mother. As promised, Leon and Demyx did not have to dance with each other although Cloud took Garnet out on the floor and Demyx swooped in and plucked out Selphie just so he could have someone with whom to dance. Even though he had planned to sit all the dances out, Leon allowed his roommate to inspire him just enough to take Emily out once. When they had finished, she thanked him with a hug around his neck and a whispered word of congratulations in his ear. He didn't know how his friends had found out, but apparently they had.

As soon as the traditional dances ended and the floor opened to everyone, Leon went back to his seat and his glass of wine. He noted with amusement that Vincent joined him almost immediately while Yuffie stayed out on the floor with the group of younger guests. Cloud had taken Garnet to her date and stayed to chat with Tifa and Zack, but now he returned to the main table and grinned at Leon.

"Any chance I can get you to dance?" he asked. "Or are you planning on sitting there like a lump all night?"

"The second one," Leon replied easily, then added with a wave of his wineglass, "But don't let me keep you from having fun. You go ahead."

Cloud rolled his eyes at him and sighed dramatically. "Guess some things never change," he commented. "Fine, be that way." Yet he was still grinning when he turned away to join Tifa and Zack on the dance floor.

Leon watched the dancers for one song, then two. Somewhere in the middle of the third, however, he rose from his seat and began to move. He fully intended to relax and enjoy himself this evening, but before he could, there was one thing he needed to do. His steps took him past Demyx trying and failing to coax Zexion into a dance, past Zidane and Garnet talking intimately as if they were the only ones in the room, past Angela and Marlene sharing coloring tips while their fathers chatted, and directly up to three men immaculately dressed in tailored suits and designer shoes.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," he murmured as he leaned down to them. "May I speak with my uncle for a moment?"

In response to his request, three pairs of eyes turned to fix on him, each one staring at Leon with as much regard as he would a speck of dirt on his cuffs. All the same, Sephiroth soon turned to his two companions and excused himself. Leon stepped back a bit to give the older man room to rise and then followed him when he proceeded to walk out of the room. They stopped in the hallway, far enough away from the banquet hall that they could talk without shouting but close enough that they could still easily see the dancers inside. Sephiroth took a moment to observe his surroundings with an air of detached superiority; Leon simply stood and waited to be addressed. He fervently disliked the attitude of this man and the way he expected others to act around him, so normally Leon simply avoided him. Tonight, however, he wanted something in particular, something that this man could give him, and so he swallowed his annoyance and played along with the game. For now.

Once Sephiroth was satisfied with his inspection, he turned to Leon, graced him with a look that one might give to a cockroach, and asked, "Why did you wish to see me, Squall?"

His eyes lowered as a further form of a respect that he did not feel, Leon answered, "I would like to speak to you in a professional capacity, Uncle."

"Is that so?" the older man asked, obviously surprised. "Surely, nephew, you are not in trouble with the law?"

"Not at all. The matter I require advice on is a civil one."

At this, the criminal lawyer immediately and blatantly lost interest. "If you want someone to help you draw up a will," he stated in a bored tone, looking away, "there are plenty of resources you can use. I don't have time for such trivialities."

"This does not concern my will," Leon replied, and then, to save both of them from wasting any more time, he simply told him what it was he wanted.

As he expected, his uncle was surprised and mildly confused. After a moment of thought, he said, "While I realize there is a fair amount of paperwork involved, I was under the impression that, in spite of your parentage, you are an intelligent young man, intelligent enough to deal with such things yourself. Why come to me?"

Rather than answer the question directly, Leon asked back, "Were you aware, Uncle, that earlier today I began a romantic relationship … with the best man?"

Silence was his only reply for several long minutes. Sephiroth's piercing green eyes stayed fixed on Leon, and Leon stared right back. A large part of him expected the man to refuse to help him due to this revelation. While he had no knowledge of his uncle's thoughts on homosexuality, given the man's severe personality and his strict expectations, Leon doubted those thoughts were favorable. Still, he had to try; this meant too much to him to do otherwise.

"I see," Sephiroth finally said, turning slightly away. "That certainly explains why you would need my assistance. I imagine you would want me to go through the paperwork, find all the loopholes that you could exploit, and seal off the ones that could be used against you, correct?"

"Yes." Leon took a single step forward and allowed a bit of hope to surface from where he had buried it deep in his heart. "Can I assume then," he asked, "that my orientation does not bother you?"

A little smirk flickered over his uncle's lips, and when he spoke again, there was definite humor in his tone. "By any chance, Squall, have I introduced you to the two men with whom I was sitting?"

"I believe I've met them before, yes."

"Then that should answer your question."

An answering smirk began to settle on Leon's face as realization set in. "I see."

"My fees are not insignificant," Sephiroth warned him sharply. "Although," he added in a kinder tone, "I suppose I can give you a family discount."

Leon bowed his head, this time willing to show the man the respect he felt he deserved. "Thank you, Uncle."

The older man simply waved a hand in response and began to move away, back toward the reception and his companions. "Call my secretary on Monday, and she'll schedule an appointment for you. Give your mother my regards." And with that he was gone, leaving Leon alone with his private joy and excitement.

By the time he returned to the bridal party's table, it had completely cleared out, so Leon grabbed his wine and went looking for Vincent. He found the other man sitting with a small group of older relatives and chatting. After silently asking for and receiving permission to join them, Leon pulled out a chair, turned it slightly so he could see the room at large, and settled into it with a small, contented sigh. From this point on, he was free to simply relax, nurse his wine, try not to go deaf from the music, and enjoy the sight of his boyfriend making full use of his fantastic body on the dance floor. Except …

Leon leaned over to Vincent and gently touched him on the arm to get his attention. When the man's dark eyes turned to him, he stated, "I don't want to alarm you, but I believe your wife is grinding with my boyfriend."

Vincent followed his gaze and, after a moment, calmly replied, "It would appear you are correct."

"Should we be jealous, do you think?"

"No, I don't think so." Vincent returned to his conversation, but not before he slipped Leon a little half-smirk of amusement.

"I don't think so either," Leon murmured, half to himself, and returned to sipping his wine and watching.

Eventually, the DJ put on another slow song at which point Yuffie made a bee-line for Vincent and dragged him back out onto the floor, babbling something about how he had promised to dance every slow dance with her. Even though his reason for coming to the table had gone, Leon saw no reason to move, and soon the chair next to him was occupied once more by a grinning blond who promptly stole the wineglass from Leon's hand and drank from it himself.

"You have your own," Leon complained, successfully stamping down on his own grin.

"Yeah, but it's all the way over there," Cloud replied. "I don't feel like getting it." He handed back the wine with a murmured "Thanks," and stretched out more in the seat, letting his feet push forward and his back slide halfway down the chair.

"Not going to dance the love ballads?" Leon teased as he secretly let his gaze slide over those slim yet muscled legs. His boyfriend just snorted at him and refused to grace him with a reply. Instead, he tipped his head backwards and closed his eyes in obvious fatigue.

Smiling, Leon left him alone and returned his gaze to the main part of the room. The floor was not as crowded as for the faster songs, but he could still see most of the younger group of guests out there with their dates. Riku and Sora were dancing together and looked quite sweet, in Leon's opinion. Nearby, Kadaj and Kairi danced together although both of them were paying far more attention to the other couple, watching them openly and whispering together now and then with grins on their faces. That particular pairing made no sense to him, but apparently the two of them had spent a large amount of time together when they were trying to patch up the fight between Sora and Riku. If it worked for them, he supposed he couldn't complain. Hopefully Kairi would whip his third cousin into shape in the same way that Sora had for his fourth.

As Leon's eyes scanned the room, he found Irvine dancing with Selphie, Zell dancing with Emily, Tifa dancing with Zack, Demyx on the sidelines holding onto Zexion's arm and pleading while Zexion had his feet planted in an obvious "I am _not_ going out there" way, and Zidane dancing with Garnet, twirling her around the other couples expertly. There was one couple, however, of which he could see no sign.

"Aww, come on, babe. Just one dance?"

"No."

"I promise I'll leave room for the Holy Ghost! I'll leave room for two or three of them if you want."

"I said no, Axel."

Amused, Leon turned slightly and located the objects of his thoughts and the source of the mild commotion as Roxas passed by behind him, followed closely by a begging Axel. In his peripheral vision, he saw Cloud sit up straighter and open his eyes although the blond man did not turn and made no move to get out of his seat.

"Successfully holding down the urge to kill?" Leon asked him quietly.

"For now," Cloud returned, but then he threw a little smile in Leon's direction and added, "The thing is, I'm not sure whose ass I'd rather kick: Axel's for bugging Roxas, or Roxas's for being a stick in the mud." Leon just shook his head and chuckled into his wineglass.

As the second slow song started up, Tifa and Zack left the floor and, while Zack wandered over in the direction of the bar, Tifa came straight to their table and slid into a seat next to Cloud. "Hey," she asked her old friend when he turned to greet her, "do you still remember how to jitterbug?"

Leon lifted an eyebrow at the unexpected question, but Cloud just shrugged and replied, "I think so. I remember most of the moves, and the rest would probably come back to me quickly enough. Why?"

Instead of answering, Tifa leapt to her feet again and clapped her hands together. "Great!" she grinned. "I'll go see if the DJ has anything suitable."

"Yeah, but I didn't say I would -" Cloud started, but he let his voice fade out as she disappeared. Groaning, he tilted his head back again and asked the world in general, "Why do I even bother?"

While Leon certainly felt sympathy for Cloud and his female trouble - the woman reminded him far too much of Yuffie and Selphie, just without the noise - this new revelation about his love intrigued him. "You know how to jitterbug?" he asked with interest.

"Yeah," Cloud answered, tilting his head slightly in Leon's direction so he could look at him. "The four of us took a class back in high school. The girls made us." His eyes shifted out of focus and he pouted slightly as he mused, "Wonder why she doesn't just make Zack do it. Unless he's forgotten … And here she comes," he finished as Tifa came bounding back, her success evident in her smile.

"Sorry, Leon," the woman said as she grabbed onto the blond's arm and yanked, "but I'm going to steal Cloud for a bit. I promise to return him when I'm done."

"Have fun," Leon returned, tipping his nearly-empty wineglass at the pair of them and ignoring his boyfriend's put-upon expression. Tifa chirruped out a "Thanks!" and sped away, towing Cloud behind her. Leon noticed they went, not to the dance floor, but to the bar where the brunette woman caught herself a second victim before dragging them both to a different part of the room.

Left alone yet again, Leon found himself wondering just how much he didn't know about Cloud. Much had happened in the six years they had been separated, yet he knew that there was far more to his ignorance than that. The two of them had dated for such a short time, and even then they had only shared the bare minimum with each other. Neither had been particularly good at opening up and trusting, so they had kept their conversations limited to the lives they already shared with each other: their college selves. Leon had to admit, to his shame, that he wasn't even sure if Cloud knew he had a sister. The other man certainly didn't know how deeply he loved Sis or how devastated he had been when she went off to a private boarding school. There were certainly stories in Cloud's life that Leon didn't know even existed, stories more special and personal to his love than dancing lessons.

Carefully, Leon placed his empty wineglass on the table as a smile stole over his face. He knew better than to worry that he would make the same mistake again. They would undoubtedly take it slowly, but this time he knew that he trusted Cloud enough to open himself completely to the other man. He would share his past without reservation and his future without fear, and Cloud, he knew, would do the same. It was interesting: Cloud had said in his best man speech that today was not really the beginning of a brand new life for the bride and groom, and perhaps, for Yuffie and Vincent, it wasn't. But for the two groom's attendants, today was certainly the beginning of something special, and Leon couldn't help but feel excited for what the days following this one would bring.

The music changed, and Leon lifted his head as "Jump, Jive, and Wail" began to play. Somehow he knew that this was the song that Tifa had requested. Sure enough, he saw Cloud and Tifa push onto the floor, hand in hand, and make their way to the very center where they began to dance. Within seconds, the dancers who were just bouncing in time to the music realized what was going on and had backed up to clear a large space for the two who were actually doing steps, spins, and slides to the rhythmic beats of the song. Leon stood and moved a little closer so he could get a better view. He noticed immediately that none of the moves involved picking Tifa up or swinging her around bodily, but they both moved with a clean, sharp precision that was fascinating to watch. Tifa's smile was dazzling as she watched Cloud for direction. He played it cool, affecting a detached demeanor as he used hand-signs or soft-spoken words to let her know what he wanted to do next, but Leon could see the smile shining in his eyes, threatening to leak out and take over the rest of his face.

A large crowd had gathered around them, clapping and whooping in encouragement, by the time Cloud sent Tifa into a spin and then, rather than catch her, turned and walked away. Several people gasped, but Leon had seen the way a certain dark-haired man had moved into position seconds before. Just before Tifa toppled, Zack leapt in and grabbed her hand, effortlessly taking over Cloud's role while the blond melted into the surrounding circle. Apparently, Zack had not forgotten; Tifa simply wanted to dance with both of them. Leon had to admit it made for quite a show.

After a verse or so, Zack gave their partner back to Cloud who in turn gave her back after about a half-verse. By the end, they were passing her back and forth after only a few steps, the two men dancing around each other as much as they were dancing with Tifa. When the final chords began to sound, Tifa fell backwards first into Cloud's arms, then into Zack's, then sat down on their thighs as they both went down on one knee next to each other and slipped her arms around their necks. She gave a stunning smile to the spectators who exploded into cheers and applause. Even Leon clapped for them, truly impressed with a dance that he knew had been almost entirely improvised. Unsurprisingly, Yuffie fell on them immediately, demanding lessons. Leon wandered back to his seat, content to wait until everyone else was finished to let Cloud know that he had enjoyed it.

Slowly but surely, the night wore on, accompanied by more dancing, more food, and more drinks. Leon had cut himself off long before he intended to leave, and he was happy to see that Cloud had done the same. While there was something to be said for lowered inhibitions, part of him was hoping that he would be able to have some time alone with Cloud before the evening had completely ended, and he didn't want to waste that precious time by being drunk. There were problems with that plan, though, most notably the two teenagers who were currently having their second helping of dessert, although in Sora's case it might have been his third. While Leon wasn't about to kick the boys out of their own house so he and Cloud could have some quality time, he knew that his boyfriend would be more cautious if they were around. And while Leon could easily kick Demyx over to Axel's, or even Zexion's, he also knew that Cloud wouldn't want to leave his boys alone at the house all night without adult supervision. Thus his problem, for which he had yet to find a solution.

What he didn't realize was that a solution had already been worked out for him.

They were in the hallway outside the reception hall, chatting briefly to Irvine and Selphie before the two took their very sleepy toddler home. Roxas appeared out of nowhere and stood by his father's elbow until the man stopped talking long enough to send him a questioning look.

"Dad," Roxas stated without preamble, "Sora and I are going over to Kairi's house tonight to sleep over. Riku and Kadaj are coming, too, to hang out for a bit, but they're both going home to sleep. I've already told Axel he's not allowed to come. Oh, and since Kadaj's car has three confirmed-working seatbelts in the back, we're all going to leave now, go home to pick up stuff, and then go over there." Ignoring the older blond's stunned expression, he pushed a napkin into Cloud's hand, said "Kairi's phone number," and "Bye!" and then left before anyone could say anything else.

Irvine and Selphie recovered first. Covering their chuckles, they also took their farewells and wandered away, leaving Leon and Cloud alone in the hallway, staring blankly at nothing in continued shock. Finally, after several breaths and failed attempts to push past the heat that had suddenly taken over his brain, Leon swallowed heavily and stated, "Your sons are _dangerous_."

"You're telling me," Cloud replied. He also visibly swallowed before turning his head to lock gazes with the man next to him. At the sight of those sea-colored eyes, the heat in Leon's body mellowed out into something smoother and more pleasant yet still powerful. A small smile took over his face, and Cloud's lips stretched and turned into an identical expression as he, too, felt their connection solidify. "Want to get out of here?" he suggested in a half-whisper.

"Hell yes," Leon whispered back, and both of their smiles morphed into grins. As one, they turned towards the banquet hall so they could find the bride and groom and take their leave together.


	50. Our Town

_They arrived early since they were a large group and wanted to sit at least relatively close to each other. All around them, students were rushing around in a frenzy of last-minute pre-curtain preparation as they handed over their tickets and accepted programs._

_"Ah, memories," Selphie giggled as she watched a runner with a message fly from the refreshment table to the ticket table and then backstage again. "It almost makes me want to jump in and help."_

_Irvine tightened his grip on her waist as he said, "That's all right, dear. I'm sure they'll be fine."_

_They managed to find a section along one wall with enough seats that was still relatively close to the stage. Zell worked on setting up the video camera while Tifa chatted with Emily about her flight in that afternoon. Leon sat quietly and read the program. The two names at the very top of the cast list made him smile._

_Just before the lights went down, Cloud turned to address them all and said, "Guys, I just wanted to warn you: Sora and Roxas said this production is going to be very different from what we're used to."_

xXx

The stage is empty as the curtain rises. There are no sets, no props. Then, two boys with identical faces but different-colored hair walk in from either side, meet in the middle, and shake hands. The brunet boy is wearing tan slacks with a long-sleeved collared shirt and suspenders. The blond boy is wearing torn jeans and a dark-colored T-shirt. They turn to the audience together. The brunet boy smiles. The blond boy sticks his hands in his pockets and looks away, bored.

"This play is called 'Our Town,'" the smiling boy says. "It was written by Thornton Wilder; produced and directed by A, or produced by A, directed by B."

xXx

_"Um, that doesn't sound right," Selphie whispered to her neighbors._

_"He's supposed to replace the letters with the real names of the people in the show," Emily whispered back, equally confused._

_"Like I said …" Cloud told them, letting the rest die away._

xXx

"In it you will see Miss C, Miss D, Miss E, and Mr. F, Mr. G, Mr. H, and many others. The name of the town is Grover's Corners, New Hampshire - just across the Massachusetts line: latitude 42 degrees 40 minutes, longitude 70 degrees 37 minutes. The First Act shows a day in our town. The day is May 7, 1901."

Suddenly, the blond boy startles awake. He leans over to the other boy and whispers urgently in his ear. As the brunet listens to the blond speak, his smile slowly slides from his face, like melting snow. He turns wide, disbelieving eyes to the blond boy, who nods in confirmation. The brunet takes a step away from the other boy, shaking his head.

"Th-the day is …" he stammers, stumbling over the words. "… is … is May …" His hands begin to pat himself down, groping in his pockets and turning them inside out to show their emptiness. The blond takes a step towards him, but he takes two more away and his hands move faster and more frantically about his body. "The … the day …" he pants, fighting for breath, "… the … May 7 … 19 … 19 … day is …"

A hand brushes over his shirt pocket, and suddenly, he stills. Carefully, he reaches inside and extracts a pair of glasses. Body radiating relief, the brunet unfolds the arms and lifts the glasses to his face. They slide easily over his ears and up the bridge of his nose. A contented sigh escapes him as he shuts his eyes briefly and then reopens them to gaze through red-tinted lenses.

"The day," he repeats, once again confident and smiling, "is May 7, 1901."

The blond stares at him for a moment, then grandly rolls his eyes and wanders away upstage.

xXx

_The moment Sora put on what were obviously supposed to be rose-colored glasses, Leon turned his head slightly to catch Cloud's eye. His boyfriend lifted an eyebrow at him, mirroring the surprise and interest that he himself felt at that moment._

_"A very different production indeed," he murmured gently before returning his attention to the front. Cloud merely squeezed his hand in response._

xXx

"The time is just before dawn," the brunet says, then stops to listen. The blond, who has been making hand-signals to someone offstage, turns and, rolling his eyes once more, makes a passable attempt at a rooster crowing. The brunet nods, still smiling and begins to speak again while the blond returns to his signals.

"The sky is beginning to show some streaks of light over in the East there, behind our mount'in. The morning star always gets wonderful bright the minute before it has to go, doesn't it?" He pauses to stare into the distance, presumably at the star only he can see, then shakes himself awake and continues, "Well, I'd better show you how our town lies."

At this moment, the purpose for the blond's gestures becomes apparent as a giant backdrop begins to descend from the top of the stage towards the ground. It depicts in brilliant detail and color several storefronts in a modern shopping center. Mostly-full parking lots can be seen between the buildings, and there is a traffic chopper in the sky above. Two stagehands, dressed in black, come out to help the backdrop into place as the blond wanders off to give more instructions to a third stagehand who has just arrived.

"Up here," the brunet is continuing, waving to the backdrop but not looking at it, "is Main Street. Way back there is the railway station. Tracks go that way." He points offstage. "Polish Town's across the tracks, and some Canuck families."

He continues to talk while the other boy continues to direct and the stagehands continue to receive instructions. They bring in two moving sets, both the interiors of houses, kitchens, one precisely-decorated and extremely clean, the other slightly sloppier and messier. Each set has a sink, oven, microwave, and refrigerator along with a table and chairs. The stagehands bring the pieces in near the back and leave them there until the brunet begins to move; then, they slide the sets in behind where he had just vacated.

"Along here's a row of stores," the brunet is saying, gesturing again towards the backdrop. "Hitching posts and horse blocks in front of them. First automobile's going to come along in about five years." At those words, the blond stops and takes a moment to stare at the brunet before shaking his head and going back to his work. "Belonged to Banker Cartwright, our richest citizen … lives in the big white house up on the hill."

"Here's the grocery store and here's Mr. Morgan's drugstore," he says, indicating the Wal-Mart for both. "Most everybody in town manages to look into those two stores once a day. Public school's over yonder," he continues, pointing offstage again. "High school's still farther over. Quarter of nine mornings, noontime, and three o'clock afternoons, the whole town can hear the yelling and screaming from those schoolyards."

He is mostly stage left by now, but he turns and begins heading stage right again. "This is our doctor's house - Doc Gibbs'," he says when he reaches the messier of the two house-sets. "This is the back door." He pretends to open it and steps inside. A few paces bring him to the table which he slaps lightly with his hand. "There's some scenery for those who think they have to have scenery," he declares with a grin. It is meant to be a little joke, but only he can see the minimalist stage that exists in his mind. Turning to the fridge, he pulls open the door, sticks his head partly in, and says, "This is Mrs. Gibbs' garden. Corn … peas … beans … hollyhocks … heliotrope … and a lot of burdock."

He crosses now to the other house-set and opens an imaginary door here as well. "In those days our newspaper come out twice a week," he comments. "The Grover's Corners _Sentinel_. And this is Editor Webb's house. And this is Mrs. Webb's garden," he adds, opening the fridge just like before. "Just like Mrs. Gibbs'," he reports, "only it's got a lot of sunflowers, too." He closes the door and wanders off the set and back into center stage. "Right here," he says, looking up at the ceiling, "'s a big butternut tree." His eyes come down again, and he smiles happily at the audience through his glasses while the blond, finished with the sets, stands behind him, arms crossed, and just looks at him.

"Nice town, y'know what I mean?"

xXx

_All through the opening monologue by the Stage Manager, Leon sat with one hand holding Cloud's and the other holding his own head. He couldn't help but feel a kind of fascinated horror at what was unfolding before him. And it only increased when the rest of the characters began appearing on the stage. Their clothes and mannerisms were modern, yet their speech was a century old. It should have been a mess if not for the ingenious way the scenes were presented. The actors spoke the words as written, but their tones, inflections, and body language combined to make the audience hear different words entirely. The scene in the Starbucks where Riku and Tidus sniggered about Riku's nighttime infidelities and made passes at Olette was a perfect set-up to get the audience to understand how they were supposed to view the rest of the show. And when they brilliantly got around Mrs. Gibbs's brief interaction with Howie by turning it into a phone call looking for the Doctor, Leon knew that he was watching something truly amazing._

xXx

The wives are in their kitchens now, working various appliances in order to make breakfast. Mrs. Webb is an auburn-haired woman, dressed immaculately in a neatly-pressed suit and high heels. Her make-up is perfect, even down to her manicured nails. Mrs. Gibbs, on the other hand, wears a nightgown and robe and her red-blond hair is thrown up on top of her head in a messy knot. While Mrs. Webb makes herself instant coffee and a frozen breakfast sandwich, Mrs. Gibbs attempts to make toast and ends up burning it, sending up a cloud of black smoke on her side of the stage. Dr. Gibbs arrives at that moment and, seeing the smoke, groans slightly.

"Everything all right, Frank?" his wife smiles to him as she tries to scrape the burned bits off the bread.

He sighs and moves to walk past her. "Yes," he replies, then adds with a private smirk to himself. "I declare - easy as kittens."

Mrs. Gibbs holds up a package of pre-cooked meat and states, "Bacon'll be ready in a minute. Set down and drink your coffee."

As they continue to talk about the doctor's schedule and their two children, Mrs. Webb is finishing her breakfast and picking up her suitcase. Upon seeing this, the blond boy rolls out a smaller set piece for her: the interior of a fancy sports car. She pulls out a cell phone and does the rest of her lines while driving to work, occasionally checking her makeup in the rearview mirror. Around this time, the children arrive and Dr. Gibbs disappears. Throughout it all, the brunet boy watches them from the proscenium and smiles.

A breakfast of Pop-Tarts, breakfast bars, and energy drinks proceeds with much talking but very little true interaction. George Gibbs spends the entire time playing on his DS, Rebecca Gibbs texts her friends, Emily Webb listens to her mother with one ear while her iPod blasts into the other, and Wally Webb works at his laptop. Mrs. Gibbs burns the bacon.

xXx

_Up on stage, sitting in her fake car, Kairi finished up her current lines by declaring crisply, "As for me, I'd rather have my children healthy than bright." Her tone of voice, however, made it quite clear that she was really saying the opposite._

_Paine, dressed all in black with dark eye makeup, skull jewelry, and black fingernails, sighed heavily and droned, "I'm both, Mama, you know I am." Her lips curled slightly in a sneer as she continued, "I'm the brightest girl in school for my age. I have a_ **_wonderful_ ** _memory."_

_In the audience, the real-life Emily laughed quietly and whispered to Zell, "I think I like this Emily better actually."_

_Having never seen the show before, her husband just shrugged. "If you say so," he whispered back. "I'm still trying to figure out why Sora's wearing glasses."_

_"I'll explain it at the intermission, dear."_

xXx

The children go off to school with much groaning and dragging of feet. The stagehands come out and roll away the Webb house to make room for a typical office with desk and computer. While they position it correctly, the blond boy helps Mrs. Webb out of her car and over into her office before rolling the now-unneeded set piece away. As for Mrs. Gibbs, she has pulled out a laptop computer and is sitting at the kitchen table, humming happily to herself as she checks her email.

"Here, chick, chick, chick," she coos to the screen, clicking on various files. She reads one and frowns, obviously not pleased. "No, go away, you. Go away. … Here, chick, chick, chick. …" She reads another and cocks her head to the side, confused. "What's the matter with _you_? Fight, fight, fight, that's all you do." A few more clicks, and she leans in to study one in more depth. "Hm … _you_ don't belong to me. Where'd you come from? … Oh, don't be so scared. Nobody's going to hurt you."

An idea suddenly comes to her, and she leaps to her feet, runs to her purse on the counter, and searches for her phone. When she finds it, she dials, a grin on her face. A second later, a phone on Mrs. Webb's side of the stage rings. She digs it out of her own purse and, when she sees the caller ID, sighs.

"Good morning, Myrtle," Mrs. Gibbs chirps the moment the other woman answers. "How's your cold?"

Mrs. Webb frowns, clearly upset at being disturbed at work, but she responds to the question and the two women talk until the brunet boy pushes off from the proscenium and interrupts them politely. Mrs. Gibbs looks quite put-out that she has to stop talking, but Mrs. Webb neatly snaps her phone shut and resumes typing, even as the stagehands roll her set piece away.

Happily oblivious, the brunet turns to the audience and declares, "Now we're going to skip a few hours."

xXx

_When the lights went up for the first intermission, Cloud made no move to stand up. Instead, he drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair and frowned to himself in thought. Nearby, Tifa and Selphie were gushing about how inspired the production was, in particular how they had turned the entire "window" scene between Emily and George into a text message conversation, displayed in real time to the audience on a large screen and complete with text speak and emoticons. Cloud had to admit it was impressive, although there was something sad and a little frightening about watching Hayner and Paine sit back to back, separated by only a piece of wood serving as a wall, silent and still except for their fingers._

_All the other scenes had been well-adapted as well, from the women going out to "choir practice" which turned out to be a bar, to the Gibbs siblings having a contemplative moment while creaming each other at video games. Two of the scenes, however, didn't sit well with him, not for how they were presented, but for what they might foreshadow. It bothered him how violent Riku became when Rikku came home late; half of that scene had been done with him grappling at her or trying to hit her. He had calmed in the end, but the domestic abuse in that relationship was obvious. The other scene that worried him was the one where Emily asked her mother if she was pretty. He had expected it to be drenched in sarcasm like many of the other scenes had been, but when Paine had spoken those lines to Kairi, her voice had sounded sincere. Sincere and vulnerable. Unfortunately, Kairi's character was too drugged up on alcohol and pills to really understand what was being said._

_"What are you thinking?" Leon asked him when he noticed his frown._

_"I'm thinking," Cloud replied, "that we may all want a pair of Sora's glasses by the time this is over."_

xXx

The second act opens with another long monologue from the brunet boy. Near the end of it, the wives enter their respective kitchens again. This time, however, both are dressed in weekend clothes and both pass right by their appliances with purses over their shoulders and keys in hand. By the time the brunet boy is explaining to the audience how the two women made three meals a day for years and brought up two children each, the women are already gone.

The stagehands roll in the Starbucks set again for the next scene where Howie talks with several customers in succession, including Mrs. Gibbs and Mrs. Webb, about the upcoming wedding between George and Emily. The two women pass by each other in the store - Mrs. Webb coming in, Mrs. Gibbs going out with two coffees and a small bag of pastries - and pause. Neither seem particularly happy to see one another in spite of the fact that, back in the first act, they were relatively good friends. The moment passes, however, and they both go on their way.

Dr. Gibbs is in the kitchen when Mrs. Gibbs returns. He is also dressed in casual wear. Over coffee and pastries, they talk about the upcoming wedding as well as their own. Through the entire conversation, Mrs. Gibbs is clearly trying not to cry, but Dr. Gibbs seems to be more amused than anything. His words slip off of his tongue like honey, sliding around his wife just as surely as his arms as he tries to seduce her into a mid-morning tryst. His tone only falters when he speaks of George; he is unable to keep his dislike of his son hidden.

They are interrupted by George himself, but the boy walks quickly through the kitchen, twirling car keys on his finger and informing them bluntly that he is going to visit Emily. The focus shifts now to the other kitchen where a tall man with long brown hair, glasses, and two fake limbs is currently sitting and cleaning a large shotgun. The audience hears George and Mrs. Webb converse briefly offstage, but they soon enter together. Mrs. Webb goes further into the room to get her visitor a glass of water, but George stops dead when he sees the current occupant of the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Webb," he says with obvious trepidation in his voice.

The man pauses in his cleaning for a brief moment to stare heavily at the boy over the top of his glasses. "Good morning," he answers, "George."

Mrs. Webb goes through a few more lines, scolding George for coming over and forcing him to sit down at the table with his drink, but then she is gone, leaving the two males alone with the shotgun and a mountain of tension.

"Well, George," Mr. Webb says abruptly after a long silence, "how are you?"

George promptly chokes on his water and coughs for a moment before sputtering out, "Oh fine, I'm fine." The expression in his eyes states clearly that he is anything but. As the two force themselves through a very awkward conversation about women on their wedding days, his gaze strays more than once to the large weapon the soft-spoken yet rather intimidating man has in his hands.

Mr. Webb opens his shotgun and begins inspecting the interior as he says, "George, I was thinking the other night of some advice my father gave me when I got married. Charles, he said, Charles, start out early showing who's boss, he said. Best thing to do is to give an order, even if it don't make sense, just so she'll learn to obey." His voice is even, neutral, and yet there is an undercurrent of anger in it. His hands travel over the weapon slowly, methodically, yet the threat is so clear in the air that George quickly goes from trembling slightly to opening cowering. "And he said: if anything about your wife irritates you - her conversation, or anything - just get up and leave the house. That'll make it clear to her, he said. And, oh yes! he said never, _never_ , let your wife know how much money you have, never." He snaps the gun shut.

Somehow, George manages to reply, "Well, Mr. Webb … I don't think I could …"

"So," Mr. Webb interrupts him, lifting the gun up to sight down the barrel towards the audience, "I took the opposite of my father's advice and I've been happy ever since." He lowers the gun again but still keeps it firmly in his grip as he shifts his gaze to the boy beside him and finishes, "And let that be a lesson to you, George, never to ask advice on personal matters."

George can only nod.

xXx

_"Irvy, dear?" Selphie whispered._

_"Yes, my sweet?" her husband replied._

_"Don't get_ **_any_ ** _ideas."_

_"Yes, dear."_

xXx

Once the scene ends, the brunet boy takes over and invites the audience to go back in time with him and view how this marriage came about. As he speaks, the blond boy appears and once again begins to direct stagehands until all the set pieces have been removed and the backdrop has been lifted up again. When he is finished, he leaves the stage.

"Now they'll be coming out of high school at three o'clock," the brunet boy is saying. "George has just been elected President of the Junior Class, and as it's June, that means he'll be President of the Senior Class all next year. And Emily's just been elected Secretary and Treasurer." He grins widely as he adds, "I don't have to tell you how important that is."

On the other side of the empty stage, Emily and a few girls emerge, all of them wearing tight clothes in dark colors and none of them carrying bookbags. Two of them smoke. At the same time, the blond boy reappears pushing the car set piece which is currently being driven by George. He looks dressed for a party or a club.

"Yepp," the brunet boy smiles fondly at them, "there they are coming down Main Street now."

The blond boy pushes the set up to the girls so George can lean out the window and offer to carry Emily's books home. It is spoken in a casual tone, a simple offer for a ride. Emily accepts and, after bidding good-bye to her friends, walks around to the other side of the car to get in. The blond boy pushes them as far downstage as he can and then takes several steps backwards. He makes a motion to the wings and, slowly, the curtain falls. When it lifts several minutes later, after Emily has criticized George's recent behavior and George has invited her out for an ice cream soda, it reveals a party in full swing, located in someone's home while the parents are absent. Two stagehands move the car over to the side of the stage where George and Emily get out.

After greeting the blond boy who is acting as the host, they push into the crowd and begin to dance.

xXx

_The feeling of mild horror that Leon had been experiencing ever since the first few moments of the play intensified sharply as he watched the next several minutes unfold. The hand that held his head slowly began to creep across his face to partially cover his mouth. He almost wanted to cover his eyes, but even though he knew the train was about to crash, he couldn't bring himself to look away._

_Hayner and Paine had begun dancing fairly normally, but as their dialogue progressed and as they "consumed" alcoholic beverage after alcoholic beverage, they slowly began to creep towards each other until they were dancing in a way that many people considered to be obscene. By the time Hayner slurred out, "… would you be … I mean:_ **_could_ ** _you be …" and Paine answered, "I … I am now; I always have been," he knew exactly where this was going. It was surprising to see such a heated kiss in a high-school production, but Leon found himself wishing it had lasted longer. Because the moment it stopped, Hayner was talking to Roxas again, asking through his body language if not through his words, for a private room upstairs. Of course, Roxas gave it to him._

_When Sora came back out in his rose-colored glasses and began to talk cheerfully about the wedding, Leon very nearly wanted to cry._

xXx

When the brunet boy finishes speaking, the stagehands appear. They remove all the furniture and all traces of the party as Mrs. Webb enters and, sipping occasionally from a cocktail, chatters on about how sad and worried she is in a bored, almost put-upon tone. By the time she is finished there is almost no scenery left. Only a table near the back with a paper and some pens on it and a small desk in the front with a chair, a telephone, and keyboard. Mrs. Webb, when she finishes talking, goes upstage to stand near the far table.

George and his mother appear from the other side of the stage. George begins to panic but stops when Mr. Webb enters from the same side as his wife had. The boy puts on a brave face and pretends to his mother that he is fine even as he steals looks at the man who will soon be his father-in-law. Mr. Webb solemnly stares right back.

After George's final lines, there is a pause. Then, the blond boy enters on the Webbs' side. He stops just a few steps from the wings and surveys both the stage and the audience. Satisfied, he turns back to the wings and holds out a hand. Another hand takes it, and he gently leads Emily out and into the spotlight. She is wearing a simple, print dress that hangs straight from her shoulders with no elastic or tailoring.

She is pregnant.

Though she entered with her head hanging, she lifts it now to look at the blond boy. He releases her hand and takes a step back to give her space. Slowly, she turns her entire body to face the audience and, with tears sliding down her cheeks, states, "I never felt so alone in my whole life."

xXx

_"Oh my God," Tifa whispered. Next to her, Cloud had no comment. Instead, he held tightly onto Leon's hand and bit his lip, trying very hard not to see long brown hair and shimmering green eyes._

xXx

George and Emily stand at opposite sides of the upstage table, facing each other. The blond boy stands behind it, facing the audience. On Emily's side, Mr. and Mrs. Webb stand nearby, watching. On George's side, Mrs. Gibbs tries very hard not to cry. Dr. Gibbs is not there. Also upstage is the brunet boy although he stands a little to the side. In his eyes, he is the minister at a church wedding, and he goes through the motions of lifting up a Bible and opening it before smiling to his imaginary congregation.

"Do you, George, take this woman, Emily, to be your wedded wife …" he begins.

Downstage, at the other table, Mrs. Soames, a friend of both Mrs. Gibbs and Mrs. Webb from their choir practice, files her nails and remarks to the audience casually, "Perfectly lovely wedding! Loveliest wedding I ever saw. Oh, I do love a good wedding, don't you? Doesn't she make a lovely bride?"

Upstage, the blond boy hands George a pen. He leans over the table and signs the paper that rests on it. "I do," he says.

"Do you, Emily, take this man, George, to be your wedded husband …" the brunet boy continues on.

"Don't know _when_ I've seen such a lovely wedding," Mrs. Soames interrupts. "But I always cry. Don't know why it is, but I always cry. I just like to see young people happy, don't you? Oh, I think it's lovely." She examines her nails.

George hands Emily the pen. She says nothing, but she leans down and also signs. When she puts the pen down and straightens, the newly-married couple simply look at each other, their expressions blank.

The wedding finished, the brunet boy pretends to close his Bible and stares dreamily into space. "I've married over two hundred couples in my day," he comments. "Do I believe in it? I don't know. M marries N … millions of them. The cottage, the go-cart, the Sunday-afternoon drives in the Ford, the first rheumatism, the grandchildren, the second rheumatism, the deathbed, the reading of the will …" He lowers his gaze to the audience and smiles warmly. "Once in a thousand times, it's interesting. Well," he finishes brightly, "let's have Mendelssohn's 'Wedding March'."

No music begins. Instead, George and Emily turn and walk off different sides of the stage, their parents following. The blond boy picks up the table and also exits. At her table, Mrs. Soames pulls out a mirror to check her lipstick and chatters, "Aren't they a lovely couple? Oh, I've never been to such a nice wedding. I always say: _happiness_ , that's the great thing. The important thing is to be happy." The phone on her desk rings. Putting down her mirror, she lifts a finger to the audience to request their patience and answers it. A moment later, she begins to type.

"That's all the Second Act, folks," the brunet boy says. "Ten minutes' intermission."

xXx

_When the curtain rose for the third and final act, Leon was surprised and a bit worried to see nothing but a large white screen that looked big enough to hide at least six people standing side by side. He knew this play well and was therefore expecting to see Sora again for the Stage Manager speech that was supposed to begin this act. When someone stepped onto the stage, however, it was Roxas, not Sora, and he held several long strips in his hands. Without looking at the audience, he walked straight up to the screen._

_Leon realized what Roxas was carrying just before the boy lifted one up and attached it to the white canvas in front of him. They were large bits of transparent plastic with words written on them. When Roxas hung them on little hooks in the screen, too small for Leon to have noticed them before, the black lettering stood out starkly against the white, the print large enough that the audience could read it._

_"I never wanted this" was the first one he attached near the top. Then, "I hate my life" and "I hate you" in the bottom two corners. Finally, he placed the largest one directly in the center: "This is all your fault."_

_And then, as Roxas walked away, the onstage lights went as dark as the house lights, leaving only the light that illuminated what was waiting behind that screen._

xXx

As the main lights dim, the audience can see the shadow-figures of two people behind the screen. One is a man, the other a woman. They sit, facing each other at a table. When they begin to move, it is immediately apparent that they are arguing although they make no sound. Instead, the sound of city noise begins to be heard: cars driving and honking, construction equipment, sirens, wordless voices shouting. It starts quietly, but as the fight between the two escalates, the noise gradually increases as well.

The woman rises from the table; the audience can see from her silhouette that she is pregnant. She tries to walk away, but the man follows her, grabs her, and spins her around. They continue to fight, gesturing wildly. The man grabs her again, but she fights him. They manage to turn as they struggle so she is nearer to the table again. The noise swells, louder and louder. The man pulls his hand back and sharply brings it down again.

The noise stops.

The woman falls. She hits the table with an audible crack, then collapses to the floor. She does not move again. The man gestures angrily at her for a moment, then stills as realization settles over him.

The light that illuminates them is slowly turning red.

Slowly, the man begins to retreat backwards upstage, shaking his head back and forth. His shadow distorts as he moves farther from the source of the light. Then, suddenly, he turns and flees the rest of the way, running far enough so that when he breaks for the wings, the audience can no longer see him in the dark.

The woman stirs. She struggles to lift herself but cannot. One hand reaches pleadingly outwards, but there is no one there to help her. Eventually, her arms drops and she lays still.

The red light has turned the screen dark as blood. Slowly, it shrinks down to a pinpoint on the words in the very center and then disappears.

The brunet boy walks out onto the stage from the wings and smiles.

xXx

_Cloud was numb. There was no other way to describe it. As Sora went through his extremely long speech and the stagehands cleared away the screen and brought in the gravestones for the next scene, he simply sat there and stared. He could hear Tifa whispering to him and Emily crying as Zell tried to comfort her, but neither their words, nor Sora's, registered in his mind. He was still too shocked at what he had seen. He had seen it coming, at least partly, and it still shook him to the core._

_No matter how he tried, he couldn't rid his mind of the comparison between this production's Emily and Aerith. How they had both been pushed into an unwanted marriage because of pregnancy. How they had both died violent, painful deaths while still so very young. And while Aerith had at least been happy and had never resented him for what had happened, she had had a loving mother who supported her. As for Cloud, he knew he never would have been able to hit Aerith, not ever, but if he had had a disapproving father who was such a bad role model, if he had lived with domestic abuse on a daily basis … no, he didn't even want to think about it._

_Up on stage, the dead in the graveyard were talking to each other about the funeral that was being held upstage. When Paine walked out, she had a black eye and one arm in a sling. As the scene progressed, she spoke her lines as dully and emotionlessly as the rest of the dead, even though she was supposed to be still clinging to life. Cloud was so busy fighting to keep his own emotions in check that he barely registered that Kairi was breaking down in hysterics and that Riku had shown up to place flowers at Rikku's grave with another woman on his arm. It was all so horrible, and yet, at the same time, so very amazing._

xXx

When Emily realizes she can return to her life and relive any moment she wishes, it is the blond boy who speaks to her and warns her not to do it. Still, she insists.

"I choose my twelfth birthday," she states evenly.

"All right," the blond boy replies. He motions for the stagehands to bring in the set piece for the Webb house downstage and the Starbucks farther upstage. The brunet boy, who has been waiting silently on her other side, continues, "February 11, 1899. A Tuesday. Do you want any special time of day?"

Emily turns to look at him and shrugs as she says, "Oh, I want the whole day."

The brunet boy smiles warmly at her, a gesture that she does not return. "We'll begin at dawn."

The dead in the graveyard all exit, taking their headstones with them. Emily wanders about a bit, observing the town and making comments in a voice that sounds unimpressed. When she reaches her house, Mrs. Webb is already there, sitting at the kitchen table with several papers and folders, a fancy leather-bound organizer, and a glass of wine. When her lines call for her to talk to Howie at the Starbucks, she uses her cell phone.

Emily watches her, emotionless. Then, from the wings, a young voice calls, "Mama, I can't find my blue hair ribbon anywhere."

Mrs. Webb startles violently and grabs for her wineglass. "Just open your eyes, dear, that's all," she calls back. "I laid it out for you special." She takes a large gulp of wine, trying to finish it as quickly as possible. When she calls again, she is trying not to cough, "On the dresser, there. If it were a snake, it would bite you." She quickly finishes her drink and goes to wash the glass out in the sink.

"Yes …" Emily comments from her place beside the set piece. "… yes …"

At the Starbucks, Mr. Webb is buying a coffee after returning home from a trip. He chats briefly with another patron, then crosses to the Webb house. He passes right by Emily without noticing her. After a brief conversation with his wife, he sits down at the table and starts to read the newspaper.

A moment later, a little girl runs in from offstage. She has dark hair pulled back in a short ponytail and wears jeans and a hunter green sweater. Her smile when she looks at her parents is timid, yet hopeful. She is Emily at twelve years old.

"Good morning, Mama," she says.

Mrs. Webb has moved her files and papers away from the table and to the kitchen counter instead. She does not look up from them as she says, briskly, "Well, now, dear, a very happy birthday to my girl and many happy returns. There are some surprises waiting for you on the kitchen table." She gestures vaguely at the table where a small pile of presents and cards sits next to a cereal box and an empty bowl.

Little Emily smiles as best she can and sits down at her seat. "Oh, Mama," she enthuses in an attempt to get her mother's attention, "you _shouldn't_ have." Still several steps away, on the outside looking in, grown Emily turns her back on the scene and shuts her eyes. "I can't," she murmurs sadly. "I can't."

"But birthday or no birthday," Mrs. Webb says as she gathers up her things, "I want you to eat your breakfast good and slow. I want you to grow up and be a good strong girl." She still has not truly looked at Emily who is pouring herself some cereal with a sad and resigned air. Mr. Webb has yet to notice her presence at all. "That in the blue paper is from your Aunt Carrie," Mrs. Webb indicates as she passes by the table on her way offstage again, "and I reckon you can guess who brought the post-card album. I found it on the doorstep when I brought in the milk - George Gibbs … must have come over in the cold pretty early." She shakes her head and sneers a little in contempt as she finishes, "Right nice of him." She exits.

At George's name, grown Emily lifts her head and turns around. Slowly, apprehensively, she walks into the kitchen and towards the table. Little Emily has already put aside the album in favor of her other gifts, but grown Emily gazes at it in wonder. "Oh, George!" she whispers. "I'd forgotten that …" She reaches her hand out as if to touch it, but pulls it back before her fingers can brush the cover.

Mrs. Webb enters again, now carrying a briefcase. "Chew that bacon good and slow," she orders as he goes to her papers and begins to put them in the case. "It'll help keep you warm on a cold day."

Emily lifts her head and stares at her mother for a moment. "Oh Mama," she says sadly, "just look at me one minute as though you really saw me." When her mother does not turn, too busy reading a particular file, she steps behind little Emily's chair and gazes down at herself slowly eating breakfast. "Mama," she says in an empty, lifeless voice, "fourteen years have gone by. I'm dead. You're a grandmother, Mama. I married George Gibbs, Mama. Wally's dead, too. Mama, his appendix burst on a camping trip to North Conway. We felt just terrible about it - don't you remember?" Gently, she lifts her good hand as if to touch the hair of the girl before her, but she cannot bring herself to make contact. "But, just for a moment now we're all together," she whispers. "Mama, just for a moment we're happy." Suddenly distraught, she looks to her father, buried in his paper, and her mother, preoccupied with her work, and cries out to them, " _Let's look at one another_."

Mrs. Webb merely places her file in her briefcase and snaps it shut. Mr. Webb does not move.

"That in the yellow paper is something I found in the attic among your grandmother's things," Mrs. Webb says as she picks up her briefcase and starts to exit again. "You're old enough to wear it now, and I thought you'd like it."

"And this is from you," little Emily says, holding up a necklace. She smiles shyly. "Why, Mama, it's just lovely and it's just what I wanted. It's beautiful!"

Mrs. Webb makes a little sound in her throat as if to say that anything she would pick would be beautiful. "Well, I hoped you'd like it. Hunted all over. Your Aunt Norah couldn't find one in Concord, so I had to send all the way to Boston." She disappears offstage for a moment, then reappears carrying a coat which she begins to put on. "Wally has something for you, too. He made it at manual-training class and he's very proud of it. Be sure you make a big fuss about it. Your father has a surprise for you, too; don't know what it is myself." She is about to exit, but stops beside Mr. Webb and elbows him fiercely in the side. "Sh - here he comes."

Startled, Mr. Webb finally becomes aware of his surroundings and puts down his newspaper. "Where's my girl?" he asks with a very small, yet sincere smile. "Where's my birthday girl?"

Little Emily lights up at the prospect of her father paying attention to her, but grown Emily lifts her hand into the air, freezing the scene. "I can't," she announces to the two boys who are watching her. "I can't go on. It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another." She begins to walk off of the set, but pauses as she catches sight of the album once more. This time, she takes it and lifts it up, examining it with a softness in her face that wasn't there before. "I didn't realize," she says. "So all that was going on and we never noticed." She spends another few seconds looking at it, but the moment passes and she puts it down again. She steps down from the kitchen and strides calmly up to the two boys. In an even voice, she says, "Take me back - up the hill - to my grave."

The boys nod in sync and begin to turn, but Emily stops them. "But first: Wait! One more look." She turns towards the audience and takes a few steps downstage toward them. Her eyes slowly move from one side of the house to the other, as if she is trying to make eye contact with every single person sitting in the seats. She stands straight, proudly, and when she speaks, there is no sadness, only a kind of resignation. "Good-by, Good-by world. Good-by Grover's Corners … Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking … and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths … and sleeping and waking up." She pauses for a breath, and on the next line, she shakes her head as if at a foolish child - or perhaps, at a world of foolish children. "Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you."

During her speech, the stagehands have removed all the set pieces and the dead have returned with their gravestones. Solemnly, Emily takes her place among them. They exchange a few lines in empty, dead tones. The stage is mostly dark.

And then, George enters from the wings.

"Mother Gibbs," Emily says, and there is a hint of life in her voice again, "it's George."

"Sh, dear," Mrs. Gibbs replies emotionlessly. "Just rest yourself."

George staggers forward. He is carrying a can of beer, and his clothes are a rumpled, ragged mess.

"It's George," Emily says again.

As one of the dead men prattles on about his son, George lurches forward and falls to his knees in front of Emily's grave. She watches him curiously as he sits there for a moment, completely still. Then, just as the man is finishing his speech, George lets out a roar of anger and pain, throws the beer can across the stage into the wings, and falls forward so that his head is touching the ground and his hands are buried in his hair, clutching at the strands.

"Goodness!" one of the dead women complain. "That ain't no way to behave."

"He should be home," another one, Mrs. Soames from the previous acts, adds.

Emily considers George for a long moment with her head on one side. He is sobbing quietly, his shoulders shaking. "Mother Gibbs?" Emily finally says.

"Yes, Emily?"

"They don't understand, do they?"

"No dear. They don't understand."

And Emily smiles. Gently, she slips from her seat to kneel in front of George and lifts a hand as if to stroke his head. The stage lights, already dark, dim down to nothing, leaving only the two leads visible in a single spotlight. Emily continues to smooth over George's head, not touching him but smiling all the same. George's sobs continue and, gradually, begin to grow. He begins to breathe heavily, as if panicking, and his muscles visibly tense and start to shake. All at once, he releases another pained roar and leaps to his feet. Emily looks up at him curiously as he whips a gun out of his pocket and lifts it to his head.

The spotlight goes off seconds before the gunshot is heard.

A heartbeat passes before the brunet boy appears, leaning against his favorite proscenium. As he gives his final speech, a short one this time, he walks into the center of the stage. Behind him, without his knowledge, the blond boy is following a few paces upstage.

"Hm …" the brunet boy says, pretending to wind a pocket watch. "Eleven o'clock in Grover's Corners." He looks up at the audience and smiles his sweet, happy smile. "You get a good rest, too."

Behind him, the blond boy taps him on his shoulder. When the brunet boy looks, the blond boy has already moved to his other side to tap him on that shoulder instead. This happens a few more times, causing the brunet boy to laugh when he finally catches the blond boy by the wrist. The blond boy smiles at him and then, with a lightning-fast movement, snatches the tinted glasses off of the other boy's face.

For several long, frozen seconds, the brunet boy does not move. His face is shock and fear and disbelief and horror. The blond boy has taken several steps away from him, so when he makes one desperate attempt to reclaim his glasses, he comes up far too short. Even worse, the movement turns his body slightly upstage, shifting his focus, and slowly, reluctantly, he turns to face it completely. The stage is still dark, but the audience knows what it is he is seeing: everything that has transpired in its true form, not in the form he had imagined. He shakes his head back and forth, not wanting to believe, and takes a step or two backwards before spinning around to face the audience again. He is breathing quickly, gasping for breath, panicking. Unable to cope with real life. Unable to accept the truth.

As the blond boy watches, the brunet boy falls to his knees, howls out one long, agonized scream, and then collapses onto the stage and lies still. The blond boy walks up to his side, dangling the glasses in his fingers by the end of one arm, looks down on him, and smiles. Slowly, his eyes lift to take in the audience and he says the final line:

"Good night."

He turns his back on the house and walks away as the curtain falls. The stage lights go out. The house lights go up.

There is no curtain call.


	51. End Part 1: Axel and Roxas

_Late April:_

The second Roxas deemed it safe to turn around, he spun and ran back to Sora who had already pushed himself up into a sitting position. Silently, Roxas knelt down beside his twin, and the two listened for the audience's reaction. For a long moment, there was only silence. A few traditionally-minded people started to clap, but it quickly died away. Then, the murmurs began.

Roxas wiped away the sweat that had formed from being under the hot spotlights and grinned down at his brother. "She's right," he whispered. "That's much more satisfying than any applause would have been."

"Yeah," Sora replied with an identical grin. He accepted the hand that Roxas had offered, and the two got to their feet. Hayner and Paine and the rest of the "dead" were waiting for them in the wings. When Roxas got close enough, Hayner slung an arm around his shoulders, but no one said anything until they had all retreated to the band room which had been turned into a dressing room for the production. The moment the door shut behind them, the celebrations began.

Roxas was too busy giving and accepting congratulations to notice when Larxene and the other adults entered, but their director made her presence known with her customary flair.

"Okay, everybody, _shut up!_ " she bellowed over the excited chatter of her cast and crew. Once all eyes were on her, she fell into a relaxed stance - hips slightly cocked, arms crossed over her chest - and smiled at them. "All right, I have some good news, some bad news, and some great news. The good news is that you all did a fantastic job and I'm very proud of you."

A few cheers went up, and Larxene allowed them. During the pause, Roxas's eyes sought out Axel who was standing next to Marluxia a little bit behind their director. When the red-head noticed Roxas's gaze on him, his lips twitched slightly upwards, and he winked one bright green eye.

"The bad news," Larxene continued once the noise died down, "is that your lovely principal, Mr. Kramer, was so moved by the performance that he has cancelled the final two shows." A minor uproar erupted at this, but she shouted it down almost immediately. " _Knock it off!_ I'm not finished. Ahem, the _great_ news," she concluded with a smug smile, "is that I knew this would happen and therefore set it up with my father months ago that tomorrow night's show as well as Sunday's matinee will be performed at Tantalus Theater." She waited for the first wave of excited whispers to pass by before continuing, "I want everyone there at three o'clock tomorrow for a quick walkthrough so the actors can get the feel of the stage and the tech guys can learn the equipment, then we break for dinner and come back as normal at 6:30 that night. Everybody got it?" She waited for head to bob and then turned to exit. "Oh, one more thing," she added over her shoulder, just before the room exploded into excited chatter. "There are some guys from the newspaper out here who said they want to talk to Hayner, Paine, and the Strife boys. So when you four are done changing, get out here and sell our show for me, okay? Good night, everyone. See you all tomorrow." She slipped through the door and was gone, leaving them to their joyful celebrations.

Everyone around him was going crazy, including Sora who was pulling on his arm and chattering something, but Roxas just stood there in a kind of warm numbness. When Larxene had left, Marluxia had followed her, but Axel had stayed and those vibrant eyes hadn't left him once. Even though he wasn't surprised at it, Roxas still felt something flip-flop in his stomach as the tall man began walking his way.

"Hey, guys, great show!" he enthused as he approached them. "Hayner, my man! What a debut! And now you're gonna get press on top of it?" He sighed dramatically and placed a hand over his heart. "My little one has moved on to bigger and brighter things," he said mournfully. "The girls and I will miss you."

"Oh shut up, Axel," Hayner grumbled, elbowing the man in the side. "There's no way I'm doing this next year. I don't care what Larxene threatens to do to me." When Axel lifted an eyebrow at him in question, he explained, "Olette's gonna kill me for all these times I've had to kiss Paine. Seriously."

Roxas smirked, unable to hide his amusement at his friend's obvious fear. "She already told you she's fine with it," he reminded the other blond.

"Oh sure, she _said_ ," Hayner argued, clearly not convinced, "but you know women. I'm just waiting for her to ask if I enjoyed it, because you know she's going to."

Muffling a snort of laughter, Axel turned to look for Sora, but the boy had already run off to talk to Riku and Kairi. "Tell your brother he did great, okay?" he asked Roxas instead. When Roxas nodded, Axel smiled and winked again. "I'd complement you, too, except you had, what, a dozen lines? And as far as acting went, you just had to be your usual grumpy self. Hardly Oscar material," he teased.

Roxas just rolled his eyes at him. "Yeah, whatever, Axel," he replied. "Like I care what you think of me."

"What's this? No snarky comment from my Roxy-baby? Don't tell me the girl of my dreams is getting soft on me."

"Nope, just getting used to your disgustingly perverted ways."

"That's even worse! You're no fun if I can't get a rise out of you."

"Gee thanks. I'm glad I mean so much to you."

"You two do realize you fight like you're married, right?" Hayner interrupted with a mildly disturbed expression on his face. "That's a bit weird, you know?"

Roxas hid his smirk as Axel replied, "Sorry, Hay. Didn't mean to freak you out." When Hayner only shook his head in response and wandered off, presumably in search of his girlfriend, the red-head took a few steps closer to the blond playfully. "Two more performances," he smirked, leaning down to whisper in Roxas's ear, "and you're mine."

Roxas gazed up into those brilliant green eyes and felt his stomach jump and tumble again. It was becoming quite apparent to him that he was falling hard and fast for this moronic jackass. He figured he was fast approaching the point of no return if he hadn't gotten there already. One thing was certain in his mind, though: no matter how deeply in love he ended up falling, he was never, repeat _never_ , going to be a gooey, lovey-dovey idiot like his brother.

Lowering his eyelids just slightly, Roxas stared into Axel's eyes and replied lowly, "I think you mean to say that _you_ are going to be _mine_." He paused a moment to relish the dazed and lustful look on the man's face before turning and walking away, immensely satisfied with his work.

xXx

 _May_ :

It was a little weird, Axel had decided, hanging out with Roxas at his house like this. He had thought that, once he had moved out of his parents' house and gotten his own place, he wouldn't have to experience that feeling of being watched anymore. Riku and Sora weren't the problem. Their "chaperones" were too busy exchanging little kisses and whispering with each other to pay him and Roxas much attention. No, Cloud was the problem, that parental figure that Axel had thought he had left behind for good. The man wasn't in the room, wasn't even on the same floor, and yet Axel still felt his presence like a shadow hanging over him and watching his every move.

He supposed it was his own fault. He had been the one stupid enough to fall for a minor. Although, he admitted to himself as he gazed down at the blond head that rested against his chest, he rather felt it was worth it. Gently, he ran his fingers through Roxas's hair, marveling at the softness of those pale strands. The boy shifted against his body slightly but otherwise gave no reaction, continuing to give the movie on the television his full attention.

These next two or so years were going to be tough, but Axel knew he would be able to make it. He was no virgin, but he was no sex-crazed maniac either. Even though kissing Roxas did things to his brain that should be considered illegal, he knew he'd be able to keep his pants on with little trouble. He rather hoped he'd be allowed to get _Roxas_ off at least a few times during those years, though. After all, the boy's cold and stand-offish attitude had been what had attracted him first. He was very much looking forward to watching that face as he made the boy come completely and totally undone.

On the TV screen, something exploded in beautiful, fiery glory, drawing Axel's eyes away momentarily from Roxas. Almost as if he knew, Roxas shifted again and sighed. "Movie explosions are so annoying," he complained. "They're so unrealistic."

"What's wrong with that?" Axel asked him, chuckling lightly. "They're still cool."

Roxas made an unimpressed noise in his throat and reached up to snag the hand that was in his hair. He laced its fingers with his own and pulled it down to rest comfortably across his stomach. "They're ridiculous," he countered. "The directors just make them as big and as noisy as possible to increase the profits. A real car wouldn't blow up like that. Haven't you ever seen _MythBusters_?"

Axel popped up slightly in his seat, jolting Roxas and making the blond tilt his head back to look at him upside down. "I _love_ that show!" he cried. "And I especially love the way that, even when they can't make something blow up like the myth says it should, they just throw a bunch of dynamite on it until it _does_!" He sighed happily and gazed off into space, completely ignoring the way Roxas was smirking at him. "Man, I would kill to be on that show," he murmured. "I'd give up stand-up in a second."

"Wait a minute." Roxas wriggled and turned in his arms until bright blue eyes were staring at him the right way up. "You do stand-up?" the boy asked.

"Yeah," he answered. "Over at the Royal Flush. Demyx and I usually do our acts back to back. Of course," he admitted with a small grimace, "it doesn't pay the bills yet, but someday I'm hoping to quit my administrative job at Tantalus and do it full-time."

"Wait a minute," Roxas said again, his wide eyes widening even further. "You're a _secretary_? At _Tantalus_?"

Axel blinked at him for a good thirty seconds. Then, he stood abruptly and, taking Roxas by the wrist, began pulling him to the kitchen. "Clearly," he said briskly, "we need to talk. Sora," he called over his shoulder, "I'm taking Roxy into the kitchen to get some food and tell him my life story. You and Riku behave in here, okay?"

"Sure thing, Axel. Have fun."

"Now wait a minute, Axel," Roxas protested, trying to dig in his heels and failing. "Just because I didn't know what you do for a living doesn't mean you need to -"

"It all began over twenty years ago when my parents decided to get a little frisky," Axel said in a sing-song voice. "Of course, they had gotten frisky nine years before that which is how my brother Reno came about, but we're not going to bother talking about him."

"Dammit, Axel, I can walk on my own. Dammit, let go of me!"

Oh yeah, it was so totally worth it.

xXx

_July:_

It had become a sort of routine for the four of them to gather in the park once a week to talk and eat ice cream. This would probably be the last time they did, though, at least this summer. Olette's manager wanted her to work more hours, and Pence was leaving soon for some summer camp for smart kids. Plus, it was starting to get obscenely hot, and, ice cream or no ice cream, Roxas was just about ready to swear off any location that didn't have air conditioning. So this would be the last time they got together for a while.

It was time.

Roxas waited until Hayner had finished his ice cream. While he wasn't sure how either of his male friends would react, he knew for a fact that Hayner would be twenty times more upset if the news caused him to drop his ice cream on the ground. His friend just might never forgive him if that happened. So he waited until the other blond was sucking the very last drops off of his stick before saying, "Guys, I have a couple of things I need to tell you."

Immediately, three sets of eyes were on him. Roxas found the green set and smiled. "Actually," he said, "Olette already knows." As her face broke out into a smile, eyes shining with happiness and anticipation, he continued, "Thanks, Olette, for keeping it to yourself all this time. I know I told you you could tell them, but I'm kind of glad you didn't."

"You're quite welcome," she replied with a little nod. "I thought this would be something you'd rather do yourself. When you were ready."

"Yeah."

"Hey," Hayner interrupted them with a frown, "stop being so secretive and tell us already."

"Man, you're so impatient," Roxas grinned at him and received a punch to the shoulder in response. "Fine, fine. Do you want it all once or in pieces so you can cope better?"

Pence opened his mouth, but before he could comment, Hayner griped, "What do you think we are, babies? All at once, man, and pronto."

"All right," Roxas said with a shrug. "All at once it is then." He paused for a quick breath and then revealed, "I'm gay. Sora is, too, and we both currently have boyfriends with whom we're very happy. Sora is going out with Riku and has been since February, so that's another reason, Hay, to keep your mouth shut about him. As for me, I've been going out with Axel since May. We're keeping it very quiet and low-key since I'm a minor, but I thought that you guys, since you're my best friends and all, should know." He paused for a moment, then finished, "And that's it."

Pence released a breathy laugh and commented, "That's enough." He shook his head and, carefully removing the shock from his face, continued, "Wow, Roxas, that's quite a bomb to drop on us."

"Yeah," Roxas smiled, a little regretfully, "I know."

"But I'll be okay with it," Pence said quickly. "It's a lot to process, but I can do it. And I can tell you right now that I have no trouble with you and your brother being gay." He smiled and scratched a his hair a bit. "Your choice of boyfriends is a little weird, though. I mean, I never would have guessed Riku would end up with another guy. The number of girls he's been through …"

"But maybe," Olette interjected, "that's why he went through so many girls. Because a girl wasn't what he needed. Oh, Pence," she beamed, "you should have seen them! They were so cute together! And they looked so happy."

"Yeah, they're happy all right," Roxas commented, half-grumbling. "Lovey-dovey idiots, the pair of them."

"Now, Roxas, I'm sure you and Axel are just as cute."

"Cute, maybe, but I'm sure as hell not lovey-dovey with him."

"And that's weird, too," Pence interrupted before they could start a real argument. "Axel's so much older than you, Roxas. And I would have bet money that he was straight as well."

"Well, there is this thing called being bisexual," Olette commented with the air of one teaching an important lesson. "A person doesn't have to be restricted to one gender or the other."

"I suppose. It's just surprising, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Roxas replied, giving Pence a small smile. "And as for the age thing, that's why we're taking it slow. And believe me, my dad is watching us very closely."

"You've been together since May?" the other boy confirmed. When Roxas nodded, he asked, "Why didn't you tell us before now? Were you afraid we wouldn't accept it?"

"No, but I wanted to make sure it was going to work out between Axel and me before saying anything. I mean, I would have told you guys I was gay anyway, but there was no need to freak you out unnecessarily if we weren't going to last a month."

"Yet you have," Olette teased him, nudging him lightly with her elbow.

"Yeah," Roxas smiled. And then, because he knew he shouldn't put it off any longer, he turned to the other blond in their group and asked with a sigh, "You still alive, Hay?"

Hayner slowly closed his mouth which had been hanging open for several minutes now. His eyes wide as saucers, he lifted one shaky finger and pointed it at Roxas. "There is no way that you … and Axel …" he stammered out. "Because Axel, he's … he's …" He slammed both of his hands down on his knees and cried, "Axel is not gay!"

"Oh dear," Olette sighed. "I should have known this was going to happen." She slid a little closer to her boyfriend and slipped her arms around him. "Now, Hayner, dear," she soothed, laying her head on his shoulder, "like I was just saying to Pence, there is such a thing as being bisexual."

"No, no way. Not Axel. There is _no way!_ "

"I'm afraid so, darling. But that doesn't mean you have to stop admiring him. You can still look up to him, you know. Even if he is going out with Roxas."

"No," Hayner whimpered, dropping his head into his hands. "No, no, no, no, no …"

Smirking lightly, Roxas turned to Pence and commented, "I don't know whether I should be relieved about all this, or insulted."

Pence cocked his head to one side and suggested, "How about amused?"

Roxas took another quick look at his friend, clutching at his girlfriend in abject denial. Olette caught his eye and winked. Roxas smiled and winked back.

"Yeah that sounds good," he replied. And then he got to his feet and wandered off to buy Hayner another ice cream.

xXx

_November:_

While Axel knew that his office was an important stop for every Tantalus employee come payday, and while he truly did treasure his friendships with many of its actors and staff, there were some days, like today, when he wished everyone would just go the hell away and leave him alone. Unlike them, he had work to do, work that required at least some amount of concentration on his part. And there was just no way he was going to be able to concentrate with Zidane not five feet away, whining like a deflating balloon.

"You, my friend," Blank commented dryly, "are hopeless."

"I know," the blond actor whimpered pathetically. "But I can't banish her from my mind. I keep seeing her face, her eyes. Ah! She is the dagger that has pierced this wretched heart."

Marcus snorted at him. "Zidane, you saw her a week ago. Don't you think it's a little early to be getting _this_ melodramatic?"

"Yeah, usually you're not this bad until at least a month."

"Guys," Axel interrupted, rubbing his temples tiredly, "do you mind taking this somewhere else? I have to get this paperwork done."

"Oh, yeah, sure, Firebird," Blank replied, a bit surprised. "Sorry. We didn't realize." He leaned down and grabbed onto Zidane's arm, trying to yank him out of his chair. "Come on, Romeo. Let's leave Firebird alone so he can -"

His voice died away abruptly as a beautiful blonde appeared in the doorway. Her long hair was piled up in curls on her head, and she wore what was obviously one of Lowell's costumes, based on the amount of frills and lace. She was hardly the delicate princess she appeared, however, which became apparent the moment she fisted her hand on one cocked hip and glared at Blank with wildcat eyes.

"All rahgt, you," she said in her heavy Southern accent, "Ah've had just about enough of this. You have exactly thirty minnits to ask me out to dinnah, otherwise Ah'm gonna accept Cinna's offer and go out with him instead." Turning grandly, she began to make her exit, but paused briefly to add over her shoulder, "You got a visitah, Fiahbird." And then she was gone, leaving Blank to stare after her in a mixture of horror and disbelief.

"Well," Marcus commented, hiding his grin, "that certainly was unexpected."

"Yeah," Zidane agreed. He looked up at his friend and asked, "So, Blank, whatcha gonna do?"

"I … I …" the red-headed actor stammered. Then, suddenly, he snapped out of his daze and dashed out the door, calling, "Ruby! Wait!"

As he flew out of the office, he nearly ran into someone coming inside, but the newcomer stepped aside just in time to prevent being run over. Axel couldn't help but smile at the sight of him.

"Well," Roxas said, smirking gently, "that went better than expected."

"You mean," Axel laughed, "you're the one who told Ruby to come in here and give Blank an ultimatum?"

"Yup," his little blond boyfriend answered, leaning against his doorframe with crossed arms. "And I told her to pick the least attractive guy in the company to threaten him with."

Zidane sniggered. "Oh boy, won't Cinna be upset when he hears that?"

"So we don't tell him," Marcus stated simply. He took Zidane by the arm and pulled the other man easily to his feet. "Come on, we were going to leave Firebird alone."

"Well yeah, but now that Roxas is here -"

"Come on, Zidane."

The bigger man easily pulled the protesting blond through the doorway and past a waiting Roxas. Once they had gone, the boy stepped into the office fully and kicked the door shut.

Axel wasted no time in crossing the room to him and pulling that small body into his arms. "Hey, babe," he grinned. "What brings you here today, and more importantly, does your Daddy know you're here?"

Roxas rolled his eyes at him. "Oh, please," he complained, "we're in your office. Like I'm really going to lose myself here and ruin everything we've worked for."

Axel smiled down at him, his tone gentling. "True." Carefully, he dipped his head and captured the other's mouth in a kiss. Even though he had been kissing Roxas for nearly six months now, each one still made him shiver with excitement. "You know," he murmured once they had pulled apart again, "it's almost been a year now. Since we met."

His little boyfriend smirked at him. "Since you sexually harassed me, you mean, and I decked you for it."

"Yeah," Axel replied, chuckling, "that's exactly what I mean." He paused to bury his face in golden strands for a moment before continuing, "So … "

"So?" Roxas echoed. "So you want to celebrate or something?"

"Nah," Axel breathed. He could feel his heart speeding up in his chest, although he knew it only had partly to do with the body in his arms. The other part was because of the words that were floating in his mind, sitting there on the tip of his tongue. "I just …" he said quietly, gathering the courage. "I just wanted to tell you something."

"Yeah?" Roxas's voice had softened, as if he knew what it was with which Axel was struggling. "What is it?"

Axel smiled into the top of Roxas's head, eyes closed, and said, "You're stubborn, cynical, and your attitude sucks, and I think I'm in love with you."

Roxas chuckled and moved backwards so he could meet the eyes of the man who held him. "Well, you're loud, obnoxious, and a total pervert," he replied, smiling, "and I think I'm in love with you, too."

Axel laughed lightly and leaned down to kiss him again. Roxas met him half-way.

End "Please, Kiss Me"


	52. End Part 2: Demyx and Zexion

_Late February:_

Zexion's hands were shaking. His stomach felt nauseous. He knew there was sweat on his forehead, but his limbs felt chilled. He was certain he had been hit with some insidious virus that caused instant flu symptoms. That had to have been it, since this violent of a physical reaction couldn't have come simply from the mental worry he was having over Demyx being in his apartment. Could it?

"Oh, wow, Zexy," the blond musician said as he showed himself around the main room. "It's just like I imagined it would be. So many books! And everything so neatly organized. It's nothing like my room at all. I mean, I have books and stuff, but they tend to be more thrown into piles. Just a big mess." He turned to Zexion with a giant smile, one hand coming up to scratch at the hair at the base of his neck in a nervous gesture. "Uh, hey, Zexion?" he asked with obvious hesitation. "Do you think you could … ? I mean, would you mind … showing me your camera?"

The question startled him, but he recovered quickly. "Oh, yes … if you like. Wait here a moment." Trying not outright run, he retreated to his bedroom and fetched his camera from its shelf in the closet. When he returned, Demyx was waiting on the couch, twisting his hands lightly in his lap.

"Yikes! That looks expensive," the blond commented when Zexion stepped up to him with the camera. "I'm glad I decided to sit down. I'd hate to drop it and break it … that is," he added with a worried look, "if you'll let me touch it at all. It's so fancy. I guess I wouldn't blame you if you -"

"Here," Zexion said, pressing the camera into Demyx's hands. Truth be told, he hadn't taken any pictures since he had realized he was in love with the musician. The pictures had been a way for him to try to understand the emotions inside him; now that he understood them, the camera was no longer necessary.

As Demyx happily investigated the camera and all its buttons, Zexion stared at the floor and quietly endured the feeling of being eaten from the inside out. For some reason, he was still so very frightened that Demyx would reject him and abandon him. Even though Demyx had chased after him and caught him, he couldn't seem to bring himself to believe that he no longer had anything to fear. There was still so much he didn't know, so much he didn't understand.

"Demyx," he began, lifting his head and turning, "I …"

A sudden flash cut him off and made him blink. Demyx lowered the camera from his grinning face. "Sorry about that," he said, not sounding regretful in the slightest. "I couldn't resist." As Zexion rubbed the colored dots from his eyes, the blond examined the picture he had taken with a critical expression. "Hmm, I guess it's not that bad, although I knew I wouldn't be able to get the same effects with lighting and stuff that you can." He fell silent for a moment, just looking at the camera with a thoughtful expression. "Zexy," he finally said, "why do you hide one of your eyes behind your hair like that?"

Zexion looked up and faltered when he found blue-green eyes gazing at him with something like disappointment in their depths. Swallowing heavily, he managed to answer, "I have a very young face for a person of my age. People are always mistaking me for a teenager. It is quite annoying. However, I found that with this hairstyle, I am less likely to be mistaken for someone much younger. People still have trouble believing I am twenty-one, but at least I am no longer accused of being sixteen."

"I see," Demyx answered. "That makes sense, I guess." He lifted one of his hands, and Zexion froze as callused fingertips brushed along his forehead and pulled the long strands of his bangs to one side. "It's a shame, though. You have such beautiful eyes." He laughed then, a wonderful sound that made Zexion shiver. "Guess I should just be happy that I can see them whenever I want."

"Demyx," Zexion whispered. He was shaking, actually _shaking_ , from the feeling of having Demyx so near, looking at him like that. "Demyx, what do you want from me? A couple of nights ago, you said you wanted us to be boyfriends. Are we? What does that mean? What am I supposed to do? Please tell me. Please."

The blond's eyes had widened with surprise and confusion, but at Zexion's breathless plea, he quickly closed the distance between them and gathered the smaller man up in his arms. "It's okay," he murmured comfortingly, as if on instinct. "Don't panic; it's okay." After taking a moment to sort through his thoughts, he began, "I don't necessary want anything from you other than for you to keep being who you are. I kind of thought we had agreed to be boyfriends, yes, but you're right, we never said it formally. So, um …" He leaned back a bit until he could take Zexion by the chin and lift his face to meet his eyes. "Zexion? Be my boyfriend?"

"But what does that entail?" the younger man insisted. "Am I to take you out on dates? Are you to take me? How do we decide who is supposed to do what and when?"

Demyx just shrugged in response. "We can go on dates if you want, but that's not really that important to me. All I really want is for us to spend as much time together as our schedules will allow, and when they can't, we'll email or talk on the phone. I want to be the person you share all your thoughts and feelings with, and I want to share mine with you. That's all for now, really. Yeah, hopefully there'll be more later, but we can figure that out when we get to it. Right now, all I want is to be with you." He smiled down at Zexion who was staring up at him in a kind of surprised daze. "So what do you say? You want to?"

Zexion swallowed and lowered his eyes. Somehow during all this, his hands had lifted to grab Demyx lightly by the shirt. Carefully, he uncurled his fingers and forced them to return to his own lap. "Promise me," he said seriously. "Promise me that you'll tell me if I'm doing something wrong or if you want something that I'm not giving you. Promise me you won't leave me without giving me a chance to fix it."

"Absolutely," Demyx replied, completely serious as well. "Now you promise me that you won't run away from me again, no matter how worried or confused you get." When Zexion nodded, his face broke out into a bright smile. "Good. So does that mean … ?"

"Yes," Zexion replied simply.

"Good," Demyx said again.

They sat in silence for a while until Zexion finally lifted his eyes to meet the pair that were gazing fondly down at him. "Will you …" he said quietly, fighting the heat that was taking over his face. "Will you kiss me now?"

"Sure," his boyfriend smiled. "Whenever you want." A heartbeat later, he was leaning down, and Zexion happily closed his eyes.

xXx

_April:_

"So, how's the boyfriend treating you?"

Demyx looked up from his tuning to find both of his closest friends standing over him. Luxord, who had spoken, was smiling at him genuinely, but Axel seemed to be fighting back a smirk.

"Great!" he answered. "I don't get to see him as much as I'd like to because of our schedules, but when I do get to see him, he treats me great."

"Well that's good," his friend replied. "Hasn't tried to run away again, has he?"

"Oh no," Demyx assured him quickly. "He's gotten much more comfortable with everything. In fact …" He trailed off, face starting to burn at what he had been about to say. "Never mind."

But Axel was already squatting down beside him, grinning madly, and Luxord's smile had widened as well. "Oh, come on, Dem," Axel encouraged. "You can tell us. We're your best friends, after all. In fact what?"

"Well …" Their eyes were boring into him, making it extremely hard to resist. "Well, ever since I first realized I was gay, I always figured that when I finally had a relationship I would end up being … you know … the girl. But when Zexion and I started going out, he was always so nervous and skittish. I was the one who had to chase after him and hold him and kiss him and, well, basically do all the work. I didn't _mind_ it, but it wasn't how I thought things were going to be. But now …" He trailed off again. His face was flaring, and he had to resist the urge to cover his cheeks with his hands.

"But now … ?" Axel prompted, exchanging a knowing look with Luxord.

Demyx frowned heavily at the pair of them and tried to regain some of his composure as he answered, "But now, he's starting to get comfortable with the whole idea of being my boyfriend. He's still confused about some things, but he doesn't let the nervousness get to him anymore. A couple of weeks ago, he started coming up to me on his own, touching me, holding me, and … and kissing me. It's … well … I like it." Composure once again lost, he ducked his head and tried to disappear.

It really had surprised him the first time he had kissed Zexion and found himself being challenged for dominance. Surprised and thrilled him. He had given in immediately which apparently had boosted his boyfriend's confidence tremendously. And the more Zexion's confidence rose, the more Demyx found himself in absolute heaven. The only complaint he had was that he apparently couldn't practice his music in front of the other man anymore. Every time he sat down with his guitar, it wasn't long before he felt his boyfriend's hands and lips on him, making it absolutely impossible to concentrate.

Axel and Luxord were both snickering at him, although Luxord was being more polite and trying to hide it. "Must be nice," the blond bar-owner commented, "having an intellectual as a lover."

"Oh yeah," the red-headed comedian agreed. "Can you imagine the sex talk? His vocabulary alone must be amazing."

"And Demyx has such a lovely tenor voice. Wonder what note he ends up hitting."

"Hey!" Demyx cried, looking up with an angry frown and his face on fire. "That's enough! You shouldn't talk about personal stuff like that. And besides, we're not … we haven't …"

"Maybe not," Axel grinned at him. "But you will."

"No doubt about that," his other torturer added.

Demyx whined and hid his face in his hands, but his head snapped back up when he heard someone say flatly, "Excuse me. Am I interrupting something?"

Instantly, Demyx was on his feet and scurrying over to Zexion's side. It was a little difficult trying to cling to him and bury his face in the other man's neck when he was the slightly taller one, but somehow Demyx managed. Besides, it felt so wonderful when Zexion slid an arm around his shoulder and held him there with a definite protectiveness.

"Are you two teasing Demyx again?" the scientist's cold voice asked.

"Well, of course," Axel answered, clearly not intimidated or ashamed in the slightest. "We're his best friends. It's in our job description."

Zexion's chest moved in a sigh before he answered, "Granted. But Demyx has a performance this evening. Do you think you could refrain from embarrassing him until he's finished, please?"

"Oh fine, if we have to."

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"Thanks, Zexy," Demyx whispered into his boyfriend's neck. Rather than respond, Zexion took Demyx by the chin and lifted his face until their eyes met. The smile on his face made Demyx weak in the knees. There was something about the smaller man's smile that he absolutely adored. Perhaps because those smiles were so rare, as if they were reserved only for Demyx, or perhaps because they gave Zexion the aura of a man who knew much more than he was telling. Whatever it was, that smile had him half-way to fainting even before Zexion started kissing him.

"Hey, hey!" Axel called before they could get too far. "None of that, now. You're the one who said he still has to perform, remember?"

Zexion sighed again as he reluctantly pulled away. "I suppose I did, yes," he grumbled. Demyx just laughed.

xXx

_September:_

Zexion bowed slightly at the polite applause and then began the process of gathering up his materials. He hadn't been nervous about giving this presentation on his summer research project, but all the same, it was nice to have finished with it. The preparations had taken up so much of his time lately that he had had almost no opportunity to indulge in more personal pleasures. It was almost as if the project had taken over his soul, at least for the past month or so. He was certainly looking forward to spending this evening with his boyfriend, relaxing and enjoying each other's company.

His thoughts, which had been in danger of turning towards subjects not appropriate for his environment, were interrupted by the approach of the two professors with whom he had worked. They walked up to the podium together and offered him rare smiles and even rarer praise.

"An excellent job, Zexion," Professor Vexen said, nodding happily. "Definitely a worthwhile lecture." He, Zexion had noticed, had taken notes during his presentation and had appeared suitably interested and impressed throughout.

Professor Xaldin had simply listened, although his expressions had been similarly favorable. "I agree, Wonder Kid," he added. "Good work."

Professor Vexen sighed at his friend and colleague and gave him a cold stare over the top of his glasses. "Must you call him that?" he complained with icy disdain. "It is hardly the compliment you seem to think it is."

Professor Xaldin shrugged, obviously unaffected by the other's disapproval. "Eh, he doesn't mind it, do you, kid?" The big man looked at him expectantly.

Rather than answer and involve himself in a much unwanted argument, Zexion simply smiled slightly and bowed his head. "Thank you, professors," he said politely. "Your compliments mean a great deal to me. However, I would like to return these documents to my apartment, and I still have papers to grade for class tomorrow, so if you will excuse me …"

"Of course," Professor Vexen murmured. He threw Professor Xaldin one more glare, which went ignored, and then turned to exit the auditorium. "Until tomorrow then, Zexion. Again, a fine job."

Zexion murmured more thank-yous to both of his professors as they left, then returned to the task of gathering up his presentation materials. A moment later, a large figure detached itself from the wall nearby and came up to help him. The young scientist welcomed its presence with a grateful nod.

"Your opinion, Lexaeus?" he asked simply.

"Excellent," his friend replied as he picked up the last of Zexion's things in his large hands. "Your data and theories were flawless, as usual, and your speaking abilities have improved."

"Ah," Zexion said with what he hoped was a light air. "I see. Good." He turned and walked out of the auditorium, Lexaeus following. In truth, Demyx had been the one to improve his speaking. His boyfriend had forced him to practice bits of his presentation in front of him again and again, and it was only when the blond had no more criticism of his technique that he was able to stop.

The two graduate students walked together down the halls of the science building in silence. When they exited into the early autumn afternoon, however, the much taller of the two finally broke it with a quiet, "Zexion?"

"Yes, Lexaeus?"

"I wish to speak with you, as one friend to another."

"Of course. Go ahead."

Lexaeus gazed at his feet for a moment, watching as they moved methodically down the stone path, then quietly began, "I have noticed that you have been different as of late. Actually, if I were being truthful, I would have to say that you have been acting strangely off and on for almost a year now. However, last winter you seemed to stabilize, and while you were not yourself, I was no longer worried about you and resolved to let it be until you were ready to tell me yourself. Now that spring and summer have both passed, however, I'm afraid I must conclude that you do not intend to tell me why you have changed, yet as your friend I cannot help but want to know, both why these changes have occurred and why you do not wish to reveal them to me."

"I see," Zexion interrupted gently. "What changes have I exhibited that caused you to conclude there is something to reveal?"

"You are warmer than you once were," the answer came almost immediately. "Your eyes smile even if your face does not. Your words are the same, but your voice has lost its coldness. And while you still resist all of my attempts to get you out and be social, during those few times I succeeded, you allowed yourself to become involved with the conversations around you." Lexaeus paused and lifted his eyes to gaze at his friend who was trying very hard to keep his face neutral. "You have opened yourself, Zexion," he stated, "and while I think it is wonderful, I am confused as to how it happened and why you have not spoken to me about it."

Mildly distraught, Zexion sighed and stopped walking. He had been dreading this moment even though he had known it would come. "It happened," he answered slowly, "because I met someone whose being is infused with so much sunshine that I cannot help but draw some of it into myself."

"Ah," his companion commented with a small smile. "So Quistis was correct. You have found love."

Zexion winced but allowed himself a small smile of his own. "Your lady is most perceptive."

"But why have you kept it a secret from me all this time?"

"Because," he sighed, resigned, "I was afraid of what your reaction would be when I informed you that I am homosexual."

Lexaeus did not comment for a long moment, and when he spoke, it was merely to ask, "You are a homosexual?"

"Apparently," Zexion replied. "Seeing as the one I love is the same gender as myself, it is the only logical conclusion."

His friend fell silent again, his face betraying only thoughtfulness. Then, he said, "It's the blond from Leonhart's, isn't it? Demyx." When Zexion's eyes widened in surprise, he smiled slightly and explained, "He was there today during your presentation although he didn't stay until the end. I saw him in the very back."

"Ah, yes …" the smaller man replied, suddenly fighting a rather urgent blush. "He had a shift this afternoon, so that's why he couldn't stay the whole time." Suddenly, he noticed Lexaeus's rather large grin and narrowed his eyes. "What are you smiling at?" he demanded angrily.

"The coloring in your face," Lexaeus answered honestly. "I had never thought to see you with such an expression. You look almost normal."

Zexion huffed and began walking again. He refused to look at his friend as he commented, "The last thing I wanted to be." Yet he couldn't stop the relief that flooded through him or the smile that crept into his lips as his best friend quietly laughed and continued along beside him.

xXx

_October:_

Demyx bit his lip nervously and swung his feet back and forth to bang against the baseboard of his bed. On the other side of his small room, Zexion sat in his desk chair, going over the data from Demyx's webpage on the laptop that he had brought over from his own apartment. Demyx himself didn't have a computer yet which was funny considering he had a professional web-presence and, if his hit counts and forums were to be believed, a fair number of online fans.

Zexion had set the whole thing up of course, using his contacts in the university to build the pages and then teach him how to maintain them. All Demyx had had to do was sing like usual. Zexion had videotaped his live performances and uploaded them both to his personal page and to his channel on YouTube. Now, he was working on putting together Demyx's first album made from the audio files of his live shows, and all this while he attended graduate classes, did whatever Vexen told him, and made his case for the best boyfriend the world had ever seen. Demyx didn't know how he managed it, unless of course the scientist had managed to build a time machine and hadn't told him.

"Your preorders just hit a hundred, Dem," Zexion told him, turning in his seat to send the musician a smile.

"No way!" Demyx cried. "Really?" He leapt from the bed and scurried over to Zexion's side to peer over his shoulder at the screen. "Oh wow," he breathed when he saw the number for himself. "Just … just wow."

"Congratulations," his boyfriend murmured in his ear, and a moment later, a cool hand was snaking around Demyx's neck, trying to pull him down for a kiss.

But Demyx backed away. As much as he loved kissing Zexion he couldn't do it just yet. There was something important on his mind, something that had him far more nervous and fidgety than he had been in a long time. "Um, Zexy?" he began timidly. "I need to … talk to you about … about something." Fear flared immediately in his boyfriend's deep blue eye, so he hurried to clarify, "It's nothing that you did and I'm not upset or anything! It's just … well … I'm not quite sure how you're going to react."

"I see," Zexion replied. He smiled gently although Demyx could see it was forced, an attempt to calm both of their nerves. "What is it?"

"Um, okay," the blond said. He took a few steeling breaths and then dived right in. "You know how I share this apartment with Leon, right? And you know how Leon has been dating Cloud for about six months now, although really they go back a whole lot farther than that. Well, Leon told me this morning that he and Cloud are thinking about moving in together, and since Cloud has an actual, you know, _house_ and two kids and a dog, they both think that Leon should move in with him and that means I'm losing a roommate. Leon said I can stay here if I want, but he's going to have to advertise for another renter since he wants to make _some_ money out of the place, and while I guess it would be okay to room with a stranger, I'd much rather room with someone I already know but Axel already has an apartment that he loves and Luxord has a townhouse, so that doesn't leave me many options except, you know, you, and I was just thinking that maybe … if you wanted … you could, you know … move in with me?"

Zexion was staring at him in complete shock. Demyx cringed. He should have known that it was too soon to suggest something like that. He and Zexion had only been going out a few weeks longer than Leon and Cloud, and those two had history and experience that neither of the younger men had. Shaking his head, he took a breath in order to apologize and take it all back.

A pair of arms encircling his shoulders stopped him. "Yes," Zexion whispered into the crown of his head. "I would love to."

"Really?" Demyx breathed, not able to believe just yet. "You don't mind?"

"Mind?" his boyfriend laughed, sending a shiver down his spine and forcing him to catch his breath. "Why would I mind?"

"Well, it's a lot farther from the university than you are now. And I don't know what you're currently paying for rent, but it's a bigger place so it's probably more expensive. And I don't know how good of a roommate I really am. Leon doesn't seem to mind, but I could be too much for you. And then there's -"

"Demyx," Zexion said, cutting him off, "you are offering me the chance to see you every single day. To not have to leave after we spend time together. To wake up to you in the morning and to go to sleep with you at night." He pulled back so that Demyx could see his smile and the gentle joy in his face. "Why would a little extra walking make me say no to that?"

Demyx's eyes were threatening to overflow, but he threw on his brightest smile and wrapped his arms around Zexion's neck. "I'm so happy!" he cried. "So very, very happy." An idea occurred to him suddenly, rocketing him out of his seat. "Oh! Hold on a minute!" He dashed over to his bedside table and, after a quick rummage, returned to Zexion who had managed to right himself again after nearly being toppled to the floor. Plopping himself down on the smaller man's lap, he lifted up the small camera he had found to point at the two of them. "We need to preserve this moment for posterity!" he declared.

"Demyx …" his boyfriend protested lightly, swallowing a chuckle.

"No, I'm serious! I'll title it, 'The Day Zexy Said Yes.'"

"That could mean a number of things."

"Just say cheese!"

"Coagulated milk-based product."

"Zexion!"

"Highly fattening dairy food?"

"I'm being serious!"

"So am I. Cheese is quite high in caloric content."

"Honestly! Here I am trying to take a picture of us to commemorate the day we decided to move in together, and you are not cooperating at a-"

Rather than continue the argument, Zexion had decided to silence his boyfriend with a deep kiss that resonated in waves through Demyx's body and curled his toes. And Demyx, realizing that he didn't care about the fight one way or the other, took the picture.

End "Indirect Youth"


	53. End Part 3: Riku and Sora

_Mid-February:_

When Riku stepped into the Strife house on the Friday after Valentine's Day, it felt like coming home. He was still extremely nervous about the evening the two of them had planned with Roxas and Kairi, but something about the atmosphere of the house made him feel like he belonged there. Maybe it was the way Roxas had smiled at him when the blond opened the door, or the way Cloud had greeted him without any distrust or anger before returning to his conversation with the brunette woman he didn't recognize, or the way Destiny had attempted to lick his face off when he had leant down to pet her. Whatever the reason, just being in that house again made him feel like everything was going to be all right from now on.

Sora was waiting for him at the top of the stairs and, as soon as he saw him, called down for him to come up. Riku climbed the steps dutifully, focusing on that happy smile instead of on the anxiety that churned in his stomach. Although he was glad that Sora had invited him over early, he had a feeling he knew why. He reached the second floor, and Sora turned to lead him down the hall. When they reached Sora's room, the brunet shut the door behind them, then sat down on the edge of his bed and invited Riku to do the same.

"Riku," he said, confirming the blond boy's fears, "we need to talk about some things."

Swallowing heavily, Riku sat down and tried not to wring his hands in his lap. So he had been right. Even though Sora had forgiven him, they couldn't just pick up their relationship where they had left off. Riku didn't even _want_ to pick it up where they had left off. Too much had been built on top of his lies. He wanted to start over as much as Sora clearly did; he was just afraid of what starting over actually meant.

"You're right," he managed to say. "We do need to talk. Where did you want to start?"

"Boundaries," Sora stated without a moment's hesitation.

That surprised Riku a bit, but he recovered quickly. "All right," he agreed. "Boundaries, then." A little thread of pain twisted through him at the idea, but he stamped down on it as hard as he could. He had told himself back when they had broken up that he would do anything for Sora, _anything_ , if it meant his love would take him back. He wasn't about to go back on that promise, not now and not ever. "What am I allowed and not allowed to do?"

Sora smiled at him and scooted a little closer to him on the bed. "You don't need to look like that," he said gently. "It's not like I'm going to put some sort of crazy restriction on you like you can only touch me on days that don't have an 's' in them or something."

Almost against his will, Riku's mind did the analysis. "That's only Monday and Friday."

"I know. Crazy, right?" Sora grinned at him. "That would be silly if I made you do that."

The sight of the other boy's cheerful face slowly drew a small smile from Riku's lips. "All right then," he asked, feeling a bit less apprehensive, "what do you mean by boundaries?"

Sora drew himself up to his full height and put on a serious expression. "Okay. Well. Roxas and I have been talking. About what we think is appropriate for ourselves and our futures, speaking in a romantic sense. He has someone he's interested in, too, but his is kind of complicated so I decided that to help him out and show my support and everything, I would abide by the same rules he has to abide by and neither of us would go any farther with our boyfriends than the other was at least allowed to, even if he wasn't quite ready to. Does that make sense?"

"No," Riku said truthfully.

"Well," Sora tried again, frowning, "I guess the most important part is this: Roxas and I have both decided to remain virgins until we turn eighteen, and anyone who wants to date us has to agree to respect that." He blinked his big, beautiful eyes at Riku and asked, "Is that clear enough?"

Riku thought he might faint, although whether it was because Sora was trying to have an open-book sex talk with him or the fact that he would have to wait _years_ to make love to the brunet, he wasn't entirely sure. "Yes," he managed after several moments and a few false starts. "That's clear enough."

"Good," the devil in the disguise of an angel replied with a little nod of his head. "Now, that doesn't mean that we can't kiss and touch and … and …" His face was starting to turn red, but he pushed forward. "… and fool around a bit, but it does mean that there will be no actual sex for about thirty months. And that's why I wanted to talk to you, Riku, because to you sex isn't that big of a deal because … well … you've had so much of it …"

Something powerful and slightly sad surged through Riku, pushing him forward until he had captured Sora's hands in his own. "Sora," he breathed, trying to keep the emotions from overpowering him, "ask me anything, and I'll do it if it means I can be with you. I'll be celibate for the rest of my life if that's what it takes." He dipped his head a bit, not wanting to see the expression in those wide eyes as he said, "I can think of only two times when someone walked into my life and actually made me feel alive rather than empty and alone. The first time was when I met Kairi; the second was when I first saw you. When you walked away from me that day after school, it felt like half of my world had been ripped out from under me. If the price to get that back, to get _you_ back is to spend the next thirty months without sex …" Swallowing hard, he forced himself to find the courage to lift his eyes again and connect with Sora's gaze. "I'll take it."

The other boy was smiling at him, the emotions thick in his sky-blue eyes. "I'm so glad," he replied in a half-whisper. "I was really hoping you'd say that." Carefully, he removed his hands from Riku's only to slip his arms around the older boy's neck and settle himself against his body in a light hug. "Thank you, Riku. This really means a lot to me."

"Sora …" Riku murmured, unable to stop his boyfriend's name from slipping past his lips. He pulled the smaller body closer to his own. "I should be the one thanking you. For giving me another chance." Sora simply hummed lightly and snuggled deeper into the embrace. They held each other like that for a long moment, savoring each other's presence, until Riku's curiosity finally got the best of him. "So, what exactly am I allowed to do? Kiss you, of course, and hold you. But where? Anywhere above the waist? Or am I allowed first base only?"

Sora cleared his throat and wriggled backwards out of Riku's grasp. His face was serious again, although it was slowly but surely turning very red. "Well," he said solemnly, "what Roxas and I decided was that anywhere above the waist is just fine. We also decided that anywhere below the waist is fine as long as there's a layer of clothing between you and me. Of course, that depends on my own personal comfort level which isn't nearly ready yet, but once, you know, it is, it'll be okay to … touch me and … you know … stroke … me …"

Riku fought to keep his grin from getting too wide. Sora's face was tomato red and he was looking pointedly at the wall, but he was still talking, or at least trying to talk. It was extremely funny although, granted, it was also embarrassing and more than a little arousing. "So a hand job is out," he stated baldly, watching as it made Sora flinch at bit, "because that's skin on skin. But dry humping is okay? And I could even bring you to completion with my hand as long as it stayed on the outside of your pants?"

Sora's eyes were screwed up tight and he looked like he was going to faint or implode or both, but he nodded in response to the question. "But I'm not ready for all that!" he clarified, snapping his eyes open to stare at Riku, almost angrily. "It'll be okay when I'm ready, but _I'm not ready!_ "

"Well, yeah, that much is obvious."

"Riku!" his beautiful boyfriend shrilled, but Riku just laughed and pulled him into his arms once more.

xXx

_April:_

Sora moaned and fell backwards onto Riku's bed. He couldn't take this anymore, he just couldn't! It felt like his head was going to explode into a mess of sticky, slimy bits, and as much as it was Riku's fault that he was like this, he didn't really want to stain the other boy's sheets. If only his boyfriend would give him a break, just a little breather. He moaned again, louder this time.

Riku, from his seat at his desk halfway across the room, lifted an eyebrow in questioning amusement. "Sora? Are you all right?"

In response, Sora just whimpered and curled up into a tighter ball. His script for the spring play lay open next to him. "I can't do it," he whined. "There are just too many speeches, and they're all so _long_. It's not fair. She said Roxas and I are splitting the part, so why do I have to memorize all these words?" He whimpered some more and tried to bury himself in Riku-scented cotton. "My head isn't big enough for all these words. I can't do it."

"Yes, you can, Sora," the older boy insisted. "I know you can." He crossed to the bed and gently sat down. Careful fingers picked up the discarded script and tried to find the last page they had reviewed. "Why don't we start over with the opening speech for Act II?"

"No," Sora immediately whined. "No, no, don't wanna." On a sudden impulse, he abandoned the sheets that smelled like Riku and made a grab for the real Riku instead. His arms settled firmly around the older boy's hips and absolutely refused to let go. "Can't we take a break?" he asked Riku's stomach. "Just a little one? _Please?_ "

His boyfriend sighed, but capitulated. "I suppose. A little one. But don't fall asleep, okay?" he added in a sterner tone. "My father comes home in about an hour, and if he catches us like this, I'm dead."

"Mmm, I won't," Sora promised. He was a little upset that the two of them had to hide their true relationship from Riku's father, but from what Riku had said - and Kairi and Kadaj and anyone else who had met the man and felt inclined to comment - keeping it secret for a little while longer was a very good idea. "Lie down," he ordered, lifting a hand and blindly groping at Riku's upper body. "Wanna hold you."

He received another sigh for this, but again, his boyfriend didn't resist him. Soon, Riku was lying down beside him, and Sora snuggled into his arms in utter bliss. He knew for a fact that if Roxas were to see them now, he'd make some comment about how sickeningly sweet they were, but Sora didn't care. Riku just made him so happy; all of his brother's teasing just sort of rolled right off of him.

About ten minutes passed in silence, perhaps a little less. When Sora felt Riku move beneath him, he assumed he was about to be told that his break was over and he needed to get his lazy butt back to work. Instead, the warm arms that held him tightened almost to the point of pain as the blond buried his face in the brunet's hair, his breathing shallow and shaky. As soon as he realized what had happened, Sora tightened his own arms in a brief, gentle hug.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered.

It was happening less often as time passed, but every so often, a terrible fear would grip Riku and paralyze him: the fear that Sora would leave again. Though his self-esteem continued to improve, the blond hadn't yet been able to completely shake the feeling that he didn't deserve Sora. Those thoughts always led to the fear that Sora would change his mind about giving Riku another chance or find some other reason to walk away. Sora always assured him that that wasn't going to happen, but he knew from experience that words only meant so much. What the boy needed most, he knew, was time.

While he waited, though, Sora was going to do everything he could to make both of their lives more comfortable. "You have no idea how happy you make me," he murmured soothingly as Riku fought to control his trembles. "I honestly can't imagine my life anymore without you in it."

"Sora," his boyfriend replied in a near-whisper, "don't say things like that just for my sake."

"I'm not," he protested. Determined, he wriggled around in Riku's grasp until he had enough room to look up into the other boy's piercing eyes. "I'm not saying it just for your sake," he told that proud, perfect face. "I'm saying it because it's true. I love you, Riku. Being with you makes me the happiest I've ever been. So please stop worrying," he finished softly, lifting one hand to trace lightly along the other boy's jawline. "I'm not going anywhere."

Riku's eyes were burning with gratitude and a gentle desire. The only word he said was "Sora," but it spoke of relief and joy and love. Before Sora fully realized what was happening, he was being pushed back into the bed, his breath stolen away by a passionate, loving kiss. Riku's hands were everywhere, touching him in a respectful, almost worshipful way. A low, appreciative moan built up in the smaller boy's throat and escaped before he could stop it.

The script with all of its words and long speeches tumbled off the bed, forgotten.

xXx

_August:_

Riku played with a spare coaster and listened with a small smile on his face to Loz and Yazoo give Kadaj advice about his first year in college in spite of the fact that Kadaj didn't want to hear it. The summer would be over soon, and the four of them had decided to go out to dinner at a local steakhouse to spend some time together before they would have to go their separate ways again.

"So, Kadaj," Yazoo asked as he picked at his salad, "what did you and Kairi decide about next year? Are you going to stay together?"

The third brother flushed lightly at the question but didn't fly off the handle as he might have done in years past. "I told her we could break up if she wanted," he answered, "so she wouldn't have to be tied down to a guy who wasn't there. But she bitched me out and went on and on about how she isn't that shallow and that I should have known better than to say anything."

Riku ducked his head to hide his smirk. Kadaj may not have realized it yet, but he was completely stuck with Kairi now. For one thing, Riku's death threat still held, and Nooj, Baralai, and Gippal had added their own to the pile. Apparently, it had taken one meeting for his best friend to completely charm the three now-graduated seniors, resulting in them declaring that she was the best thing to ever happen to him and he would be beyond stupid to let her get away. More important than the promises of bodily harm, however, was the fact that, even if he didn't realize it yet himself, Kadaj seemed to have whole-heartedly fallen for Kairi. Nothing spoke of that more clearly than the absence of his favorite mask. He still pulled it out occasionally, when he felt nervous or threatened, but the manic personality that Riku used to associate with his youngest elder brother was now all but gone.

"Guess if Yuffie can wait, Kairi can, too, huh 'Daj?" Riku commented gently.

His brother's wide eyes stared at him for a moment before crinkling into something resembling a smile. "Yeah," he answered. "Guess she can."

Across the table, the two eldest brothers were reacting to this change in Kadaj with similar expressions of surprise and disbelief. "Well," Yazoo said in his usual gentle manner, "this is certainly unexpected."

"Yeah," Loz returned with a sly grin. "Who'd have thought that the wildcat could be tamed, eh?"

"Shut up," Kadaj immediately griped, although there was no venom in his voice and his cheeks had flushed again. "Assholes."

Teasing Kadaj was also one of Riku's favorite pastimes, but considering how close the two had become over the last half-year, he felt the need to jump in and defend his brother, at least a little. "And what about you guys?" he asked, using a simple deflection tactic to give Kadaj some breathing room. "Don't tell me you're going to let your little brothers outdo you in the romance department. Surely guys like you have _some_ prospects."

It was clearly the right thing to ask, for Yazoo suddenly turned a most interesting shade of purple and Loz started to laugh. "I don't have anyone special at the moment," the eldest blond replied, "but Yaz has this girl after him who won't take no for an answer, and I don't think he wants her to."

"Yeah, I can see that. Nice shading there, Yaz. Great color."

"Must we discuss this now? I hardly think this is the time or place to -"

"You should meet her, 'Ku," Loz continued, steam-rolling right over the young man beside him. "She's gorgeous. Amazing tits. And she's feisty and smart. All around fantastic girl. Yaz is resisting her, though," he finished with a sideways look at his blushing brother.

No one needed to ask or explain why Yazoo was hesitating before accepting a relationship with this girl. A year ago, Riku would have agreed with him and even advised him to keep his distance. Now, however, he knew first-hand how wonderful love could be. His mind turned back to the conversation he had had with his older brother over the Christmas break, and he found himself smiling with a kind of melancholy fondness at the memories.

"It's worth it, you know," he said. When Yazoo found his gaze with tentatively hopeful eyes, he added, "Remember when you asked me to tell you if it was worth it? It is."

"What if Sora hadn't taken you back?" his brother asked with his apology clear in his expression. "Would it have still been worth it then?"

Riku took the time to think about it before answering, "Yes. I won't deny that it hurt. It hurt like nothing I had ever experienced before, and during the worst of it, I just wanted to die and not have to deal with it anymore. But even before Sora took me back, I had started to change for the better. Kadaj can vouch for me on that." He looked to his brother who nodded at him solemnly. "Opening myself up to love," he finished quietly, "made me stronger. If Sora hadn't taken me back, I would have suffered for a long time, but in the end I would have been able to look back on the pain and know it was worth it, if for no other reason than because it would have given me the strength to try again and maybe find happiness the second time."

While Yazoo lowered his eyes and considered this, Riku let his mind wander further over the ways he had changed since meeting Sora. The most obvious difference was in his own self-esteem and confidence. By opening himself up to Sora, he had somehow allowed himself to finally listen to what he and Kairi had been telling him about his worthiness. And as his own belief in himself soared, his need to use his arrogant, self-assured masks faded away until the only one he ever seemed to use anymore was the detached, respectful one that he used for his father. That mask, he was certain, he would always need to keep around.

"So what you do think, Yaz?" Kadaj asked, trying to sound uninterested as he poked at his baked potato. "You going to give the girl a try?"

"I'm not sure," his brother replied, but a smile was starting to tug at his lips. "Perhaps I will."

"Well, good. You could use a hot firecracker to melt that icicle up your ass."

"Now there's the little brother I remember. I was beginning to worry that being around Kairi had made you soft."

"Ha, yeah right. When I'm around Kairi, the only thing soft is her brea-ah, um …" He trailed off as he met Riku's sudden death glare.

"Go on, 'Daj," Loz teased. "Finish your sentence."

"Yeah," Kadaj mumbled with his head down, "I don't think so."

Riku joined in on the laughter that rang around the table, and, after a few minutes, Kadaj did as well.

xXx

_October:_

"Here you go," Sora smiled, handing over the little plastic bag. "Thanks for shopping at Lionhearted Books!"

The customer returned his smile and thanked him before she left, leaving Sora to sort through some loose invoices that Leon had left for him on the counter. He had only been working at the store since the end of the summer, but he already had almost as much responsibility as Demyx did. He liked to think it was because he was trustworthy and a hard worker, but sometimes he wondered if it wasn't because Demyx was a bit on the scatterbrained side, especially when it came to invoices.

"Morning, Sora!" the object of his thoughts chirped as he came in from the back room, carrying a plate piled high with cookies. "How's everything with you this morning?"

"Good," he replied cheerfully. "Do you need help taking those over to the kids?"

"Nope, I'm fine. You can have one if you want, though." He offered the plate to Sora who eagerly snatched a sugar cookie with M&Ms baked into it. Demyx grinned at his enthusiasm, but the expression turned slightly devious a moment later. "Better take a second one," the musician advised, his eyes looking over Sora's shoulder toward the front door.

Surprised, Sora turned to see Riku entering the store, bells jangling as the door shut behind him. His long hair was a little wind-blown and his cheeks were a little ruddy from the autumn weather, but Sora thought he looked as beautiful as ever. When he gave his boyfriend a small smile, the return smile he received sent a little shudder down his back. Sometimes he couldn't believe that the two of them had been together for over half a year; every little thing Riku did seemed to affect him as much now as it did when they had first met.

"Hey," Riku called as he approached the pair at the counter.

"Hey, Riku," Demyx replied with an easy grin. "You want a cookie?"

"Oh yeah, thanks, Demyx."

"You're quite welcome."

Munching on his own cookie, Sora watched as Demyx offered the plate to Riku, then carefully maneuvered his way around the counter to head down the aisles to the kids' corner. The noise level, which was pretty high already for a Saturday morning, spiked briefly, presumably as the blond and his homemade treats came into view. Sora's heart ached a little at the sound. He liked working the counter for Leon, but he would have much preferred to be over there with Zell and Irvine and all the cute little kids.

"What?" Riku teased him. "Taking over dear cousin Leon's spot as Angela's best-loved babysitter wasn't enough for you? You want more children?"

Sora whined at him and stuck out his crumb-covered tongue. Riku just laughed.

"So why are you here?" he finally asked, although he kept the annoyance in his voice.

Green eyes twinkled at him in amusement. "What? I can't visit my boyfriend?"

"Not when I'm working you can't. Leon will get suspicious if he finds out you're here on my shift, and we both know how he is when he gets like that."

"True," Riku conceded with a small nod of his head. Then, his expression softened, and when he spoke again, his tone was serious. "I did come here for a reason, though."

"Oh?" Sora questioned, turning to him. "Why?"

"Well …" Riku looked uncomfortable, but Sora did his best to encourage him with smiles and little gestures. "Today is sort of a special day to me. It's an anniversary. Well, really," he added quickly, "it's actually tomorrow, but you don't work tomorrow so I thought today would be better since you're here today. And it was a Saturday, I definitely remember that, so I thought it was fitting, you know?"

"Anniversary?" Sora echoed once Riku had stopped for a breath. "Of what?"

Riku's face was slowly turning red, but he forced himself to say it. "Of … of when I first saw you."

Sora's face broke out into an instant grin. "Riku," he said, "I didn't know you were like that. It's kind of corny, but I have to admit I like it."

"Yeah?" Riku asked, looking relieved. "That's good." One of his hands slipped into his pocket, and a moment later it reemerged with a small black box. "I got you a present," he said, holding it out for Sora to take.

"Oh Riku, you didn't have to do that …" Sora said, but even as he spoke, he was taking the box and opening it and the moment his eyes fell upon the present inside, his voice completely died away. Eyes wide enough to fall out of his head, he carefully removed the pendant from the box and let it dangle from his fingers by the silver chain. It was a crown, simple and almost plain, yet to Sora it was perfect.

"Um, I hope you like it," Riku was saying, his nervousness obvious. "I thought it would suit you, and, you know, since your dad bought Leon a necklace way back when, I didn't think you'd mind too much if I did the same for you. Although it's not an animal, so I guess it'd be kind of silly to name it …" His eyes traveled over Sora's face, looking for some reaction other than the shock that the brunet continued to wear. "If you don't like it," he finally said, "I can take it back."

"No!" Sora cried, snapping out of his daze and unknowingly clutching the necklace to his chest. "No, I like it, I really do, but Riku …" He loosened his grip and let his hands fall forward so he could look at the pendant again. "I can't accept this," he half-whispered. "It looks really expensive."

"Well, it wasn't cheap," Riku laughed, "but if I can't spend my money on you, who can I spend it on?"

"You shouldn't spend it at all!" Sora chided him. "You should be saving it."

Riku laughed again and plucked the necklace from his hands. "Take it," he encouraged as he leaned forward to do up the clasp behind Sora's neck. "Please. For me."

Sora wanted to protest more, but he allowed the necklace to be placed around his neck and when it had, the pendant fit snugly against his chest like it belonged there. Once Riku had finished, he stepped back and looked at him with a proud smile, causing Sora to bite his lip to keep the tears of gratitude at bay. His love swelled, pushing almost painfully against his chest. He wanted to throw himself across the counter into the other boy's arms, but he knew doing so would possibly hurt Leon's business and definitely cost him his job.

"It looks great on you."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." Riku smiled at him, tender and loving and everything that Sora had ever wanted. "Happy anniversary."

"Yeah," he replied, and in spite of what Leon might say, he reached across the counter and linked Riku's long fingers with his own. "Happy anniversary," he echoed, then added with heartfelt honesty, "The first one of dozens. Enough to fill a whole lifetime with you."

End "Sensitive Pornograph"


	54. End Part 4: Cloud and Leon

_March:_

Cloud woke slowly, dreams clinging to his mind even as it struggled into consciousness. Gradually, he became aware of the sunlight slipping through the shades and into his eyes and the warm bulk that lay beside him. At first he assumed that the dog had crawled onto the bed with him - again - but then memories began to resurface, growing clearer as dreams continued to fade. Slowly, taking great care not to wake the man in bed with him, Cloud rolled over to look at Leon.

The brunet man was sleeping soundly, his hands folded neatly over his stomach as he lay on his back. The sight made Cloud smirk slightly. He distinctly remembered Leon lying like that when they had both fallen asleep. The man hadn't shifted all night, something that Cloud, who had the tendency to toss and turn, could hardly believe was possible. It made him wonder if Leon always slept like an immovable rock or if the exhaustion from the previous night had simply knocked him out cold.

Cloud caught his breath gently as he realized that this would be a mystery he would be allowed to solve. His years of regret and pain and, more recently, his months of waiting and hoping were now over. He and Leon were boyfriends, lovers, reconciled. If not for the definite aches and pains he was feeling this morning - and in odd places, too; why did his _neck_ hurt so much? - he almost would have thought it had all been a dream.

Supporting his head with the hand on one crooked elbow, Cloud let his eyes wander appreciatively over Leon's sleeping form. Sheets covered pretty much everything below the shoulders, but Cloud wasn't interested in seeing skin as much as he was in simply basking in the other man's presence. Eventually, they would have to get up and face the day. Sora and Roxas would come back at some point and demand details that he wasn't about to give, and Tifa had said something yesterday about doing lunch before she and Zack flew back home. Now, however, time was standing still. Leon was here for him to enjoy, his lips slightly parted as he breathed evenly, his hair splayed out on the pillow and mixing with the sunlight that was making its slow trek across the room. Part of Cloud wanted to lean over and kiss the other man awake, but a larger part of him was far too afraid of doing anything to lose this perfect moment. So he stayed where he was.

The more he gazed at Leon, however, the more he realized that this was indeed a perfect moment. Right now, his new life was beginning. He had suffered and he had waited, but now, with the reentrance of Leon into his life, he had love, family, and peace. He finally had everything that he had ever wanted. Everything. And that realization caused a fluttering of pain to erupt in his heart in spite of his desire to keep it at bay. Against his will, different memories arose within his mind and called out to be considered. Memories of green eyes gazing at him in guilt and sadness. Of words that she spoke so often, that it wasn't fair for her to have everything she wanted at the cost of his happiness. Almost fearfully, Cloud felt his own guilt begin to build. He had happiness now, yes, but at the cost of her _life_. Even knowing that she would want him to be happy did little to ease the pain. And it had been the same with her, he remembered. He had more than once told her to simply enjoy what she had, to stop feeling responsible over things in the past, but she had been unable to get rid of her guilt completely.

Lying there, gazing at Leon, Cloud finally understood what she had felt and why it had been so hard to let go. Yet, he realized, he would be a hypocrite if he didn't at least try to take his own advice. Life had been extremely unfair to his sweet, beautiful wife, but there was nothing he could do about it and no longer any way he could help her. He had been given the opportunity for a second chance, had fought for it, and had won it. He would never forget the woman who had been the mother of his children, but it was time to leave the guilt behind. Everything that he ever wanted lay before him, and even though it came with a price, he was going to take it and cherish it with everything he possessed.

Gently, so as not to wake him, Cloud laid his head down on Leon's broad chest and allowed himself to shed slow, silent tears in memory of Aerith for the last time.

xXx

_June:_

Leon climbed the stairs to Highwind Engineers with a feeling rather like trepidation in his stomach. He had certainly been to the office before, but this would be the first time he arrived without Cloud knowing he was coming. While he didn't think his boyfriend would mind, there was always the chance that the surprise would ruffle the blond's feathers enough that he would be in trouble for a while. Cloud never stayed mad at him for long, but still, it was better if he could avoid the fight in the first place.

The moment he opened the door, Watts perked up with his customary blinding smile. "Hello, sir!" he chirruped. "It's good to see you again, Mr. Leonhart, sir!"

Leon resisted the urge to scowl and managed to turn the expression into something resembling a smile instead. It wasn't that he didn't like Watts; he vaguely remembered the man from his high school days when the guy worked for the school paper. But the man was just so cheerful. It almost made Leon sick to his stomach.

"Hey," he replied as disinterestedly as he could. "Is Cloud in?"

"Yes, sir! He's in his office, sir. Just there in the back."

Leon nodded and would have thanked the secretary if a string of loud and extremely virulent cursing hadn't erupted from a different office. "Strife!" the voice yelled once it had finished damning everything in existence. "Check your email! Now!"

"The hell, Xig?" Leon heard his boyfriend respond. "What happened?"

The door to an office slammed open, and Cloud's project manager appeared. Leon had met him on a previous visit to the office, but that time he hadn't looked like he could set the world on fire with just his one-eyed gaze. "Just do it!" he ordered as he approached Cloud's office with purpose.

After a brief moment's hesitation, Leon decided to follow Xigbar into Cloud's office. To hear the engineer talk, stuff like this happened all the time, and he wasn't about to just stand there at the reception desk like an idiot. However, just as he was about to step into the entranceway of the door, his boyfriend spoke again, prompting him to believe that perhaps today's crisis was a tad more upsetting than usual.

"What the … ? Idiots! Fucking _idiots!_ Are they shitting us? They can't possibly be _that_ stupid!"

"No, apparently they can," Xigbar replied wryly.

"Shit. Cid is going to _murder_ them for this!" Leon heard a chair scrape across the floor, and suddenly there was Cloud, looking furious as he nearly ran straight into him. "Leon?" he asked once he had recovered. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," Leon replied as he watched Cloud's boss push by them both, presumably on the hunt for Cloud's other boss, "I was wondering if you were free for lunch."

This was Cloud-and-Leon-speak for "I wanted to see you and spend some time with you," which the blond knew well. Unfortunately, the sad smile on Cloud's face told Leon what his answer would be before he said anything. "I'm sorry, Leon. Today's not a good day. Although, truthfully, if you had been here five minutes earlier, I would have said yes. But now …" Blue eyes suddenly widened, and a second later, Leon found himself being dragged into Cloud's office by the arm. "Look at this!" the angry engineer demanded of him, pointing at his computer screen. "Look! Can you believe this?"

Leon dutifully looked at the pictures that were open on Cloud's computer, but to him it just looked like a bunch of line drawings and some photos of holes in the ground. "Cloud," he admitted after a minute, "I have no idea what I'm looking at."

"Okay, look," his boyfriend explained as he slid into his desk chair again. "We were hired to design this large tent for the university, something that they could bring out for events that would be flexible enough to put away when they weren't using it but would also have permanent fixtures in the ground that they could attach it to. So we designed it, no problem, but then, just now, I got this." He pointed at the photos with a disgusted sneer on his face. "Those _stupid_ contractors started building the supports before we finished the specs, and they didn't even _follow_ the specs we had already given them! Look at this! These are completely in the wrong places, and this one isn't even facing the right direction!"

Leon looked again, but again all he saw was holes in the ground. He trusted Cloud to know what he was talking about, though, so he gave a little non-committal grunt of possible support. "And because of this, you can't go to lunch?" he verified.

Cloud sighed. "I wish I could, but no, it wouldn't be a good idea. I need to get working on a solution to this, fast."

Leon grunted again and turned away, yet before he could go more than a few steps, a hand was on his arm, holding him in place. The eyes that looked at him were slightly nervous but they were also determined, as if their owner wanted him to know that he was more than ready to fight if necessary. Leon smiled. Cloud was worried that he was about to pull what Selphie had dubbed a "Whatever fit" and leave in a frustrated huff. He would have felt disappointed in his boyfriend if he hadn't done just that once before and for the exact same reason. It had been a long time ago, and they had both come a long way since, but memories were hard to shake sometimes.

If they had been in private, he might have offered some comforting words and promises. Since they weren't, he merely said, "How about I go get take-out and bring it back?"

The smile Cloud gave him was positively dazzling. "That would be great. Thanks, Le-"

"Jesus H. fucking-Christ on a shit-stick! Can't those mother-fuckers do _anything_ right? And where the _fuck_ is Strife? _STRIFE!_ "

"Shit," Cloud hissed, not even bothering to look at the other man before dashing off to answer Highwind's less-than-average summons. Leon just shook his head in bemusement and began wandering back out towards the front desk again. On days like this, he truly was grateful that all he did for a living was sell books.

xXx

_August:_

It was strange, Cloud thought as he let his eyes roam around the table. Growing up, he had never been that good at making friends. He had really only had Zack, Tifa, and Aerith in high school and then Vincent and eventually Yuffie in college. These four, however, had welcomed him so readily and so immediately and all in spite of his shared history with their own dear friend. He couldn't help feeling comfortable with them, like he had always been meant to be one of them. Like he belonged.

"Muaaa-aaah," Selphie whined piteously as she stared at her husband's wineglass. "It's not fair. Can't I have a sip? Just a little one?"

"No, dear," Irvine replied with an easy smile. "It's not good for the baby. You know that."

"But we're celebrating Squall's and Cloud's birthdays! A little one isn't going to hurt."

"Never knew you were such a lush, Selph," Leon commented from Cloud's left side.

The pretty and rather pregnant brunette stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm not a lush! I just like to celebrate is all."

"And you need alcohol to celebrate? Are you planning on teaching Angela this as well?"

"Oh, shut up. Stop being mean to me."

"You know," Emily cut in gently before the squabbling could get any worse, "it really is nice that you could join us tonight, Cloud. That seat next to Leon really has been empty for too long." She smiled at him, and Cloud couldn't help but smile back. She reminded him a bit of Aerith with her quiet voice and her ability to keep her rowdy other half in check.

"Yeah, seriously," said other half added. "Although I have to admit that the two of you having your birthdays within two weeks of each other is beyond cute, bordering on embarrassing. I mean, come on."

Leon rolled his eyes, but Cloud could feel the way the brunet's hand tightened on his own in embarrassment. "Like that's our fault, Zell. If you want to complain, complain to our parents."

"Have you met Squall's parents yet, Cloud?" Selphie asked, leaning forward over the table in her eagerness. Her eyes positively twinkled.

"No," he answered with a smirk, "but I've heard stories."

"Yeah," Zell commented as Selphie broke out into giggles. "Raine and Ellone are totally sweet and I'm sure they'll love you to death, but Laguna is a bit bizarre."

"He's a moron."

"Now, Squally, you shouldn't say that about your own daddy."

"I had to live with him for eighteen years. I'll say whatever the hell I like."

"Hey," Irvine suddenly cut in, sounding more serious than usual, "that's the third time she's called you 'Squall' and you haven't snapped at her once." He tilted his head and examined Leon with a critical gaze. Carefully, he asked, "We all know you changed your name because you lost Cloud. Now that you have him again, are you changing it back?"

Surprised, Cloud sucked in a breath and turned wide eyes to his boyfriend. When Selphie noticed his expression, she asked, "What? You didn't know?"

No, Cloud hadn't known. He had wondered, of course, when they had first started speaking to each other again, why the man he had known as Squall was now going by another name. At that time, however, he had known that their relationship was far too fragile to pry. And by the time they had become comfortable enough with each other that he could have asked, he had become used to the name and no longer thought twice about it. Now that he knew the truth, that Squall had become Leon because of him, he didn't know what to do or say.

Leon had been staring at the tabletop ever since Irvine had asked his question although by what Cloud could tell from his profile, he didn't seem upset. The hand he held continued to grip his fingers lightly and made no move to pull away. When he lifted his head a moment later and scanned the table, meeting the gazes of his friends who were patiently waiting, his eyes were slightly hesitant but calm.

"For years, you all have been telling me that changing my name was just a form of running away, and I guess in the beginning it was. But as time went on, 'Leon' became less like a shield for me to hide behind and more like just a different part of myself. I rather like who I've become, and just because I have Cloud now doesn't mean I'm ready to go back to the me I left behind. So …" He faltered a bit, eyes lowering, but paused only briefly before pressing on. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that part of me is Squall and part of me is Leon, and while I prefer Leon, I'll answer to both."

No one spoke for a long minute, but even without looking around the table, Cloud could feel the smiles of support that the others were giving his boyfriend. As for him, he tenderly lifted the hand he held and, when gray eyes turned to meet his, pressed his lips softly against the back of the other man's hand. Leon rolled his eyes at him lightly, but he also smiled.

"Sounds good!" Irvine finally announced, breaking the silence. Grinning broadly, he lifted his wineglass and declared, "A toast to the birthday boys. To our new bosom buddy Cloud and our old friend Squeon of the split personality. May they both have many happy returns."

"Don't call me that!"

"Can I call you Leelee then?"

" _No_."

"Now tell me, what does Angie have that I don't?"

"Innocence, dear. And how am I supposed to toast if I don't have anything to toast with? Come on, Irvy, let me have a sip. Pleeeease?"

"But Selphie, you have a soda right there."

"Stay out of it, Emmy, hon. Trust me. Just stay out of it."

As the friendly bickering continued and gradually escalated, Cloud just took hold of his own drink, brought it to his lips, and smiled.

xXx

_December:_

The car pulled to a gentle stop in the driveway, and Leon shifted the gear into park. Rather than exit immediately, he took a moment to simply sit and gaze at the house while enjoying the warm air flowing over his hands from the heater. This was his house now. Sometimes he still couldn't believe it. True, his name wasn't on the mortgage, but he made contributions to the payments and all of his mail was being forwarded here now. Most importantly, his family was here. That's what truly made it home.

Someone inside must have seen or heard the car, for the front door opened and both Sora and Roxas stuck their heads out. Grinning at their enthusiasm, Leon shut off the car and exited. He decided the majority of his things could wait in the trunk, removing only what was in the backseat before making his way to the door and the two boys he now loved like his own sons. They watched him excitedly, Roxas holding the door and Sora holding the dog as he passed through and went into the dining room to put his precious cargo down on the table. Gently, he pushed back the sunshade of the carseat and pulled the blankets down just a little.

His tiny two-week-old daughter continued to sleep.

"Oh my God!" Sora whisper-screamed from a few steps behind him. "She's sooooooo cute! I wanna hold her so bad."

"Yeah," Roxas replied in an equally quiet voice. "But she's sleeping right now, Sora. You'll have to wait."

"I know, I know," his brother whined. Then, to Leon he asked, "What's her name?"

Leon inhaled slowly. He had been experiencing the most amazing feeling of calm ever since taking the baby from her birth mother's arms. It thrilled him as much as it frightened him. He had held Angela when she had only been a day old, Paige as well, yet neither of them had produced this feeling in him. It was deep and full and serene, like a wide body of still water. It was a love unlike any he had ever known before, a knowledge that he would do anything, give anything for the sake of the happiness of this little child in front of him.

"Her name is Xion," he said.

A pair of arms slipped around him as Cloud came up behind him and rested his chin on Leon's shoulder. "She's beautiful," he observed.

"Yeah," Leon replied. He leaned back into his lover's embrace and smiled down at the brunet boy who was dancing from foot to foot with uncontrollable energy. "You look like you're going to burst, Sora."

The boy turned on him with a mixed expression of anger and disappointment. "It isn't fair," he proclaimed. "You've been gone a month, first so you could be there when she was born and then to get through all the adoption paperwork. We've been patiently waiting that whole time, and now she's here and we can't hold her? It's just not fair!"

"Patiently?" Cloud laughed lightly. "Roxas might have been waiting patiently, but you sure weren't."

"Dad!"

"All right, Sora," Leon said, smiling down at him. "Go sit down in the other room and I'll bring her to you."

Sora let out a restrained whoop and sped off, Roxas and Destiny following at a slower pace. Once they had gone, Leon tried to step forward but found himself stopped by the arms that had yet to let go. He smiled at Cloud's unwillingness to part with him. It had been a long month.

"Could you get my stuff out of the trunk for me?" he asked, digging in one pocket for his keys. "Just my briefcase and the diaper bag should be enough for now. I can get the suitcase later."

His lover sighed, but his hands detached from each other and one lifted up to take the keys. "Sure," he said, then his voice turned playful as he added, "I won't do it for free, though."

Smirking, Leon turned and caught the other's lips in a brief but searing kiss. "How's that for a down-payment?" he asked huskily once he had pulled away.

Cloud laughed breathlessly as he stepped back and began making his way toward the door. "It'll do," he called back over his shoulder. "For now."

Having only been a father for two weeks, Leon hadn't yet mastered the art of getting Xion out of her carseat without waking her up. Therefore, it was a very awake and slightly cranky baby he placed into Sora's waiting arms. The boy didn't seem to care in the slightest. With an enormous grin on his face, he immediately began rocking and lightly bouncing the baby, and the goo-goo noises started soon after. Xion just stared at him like he was completely insane, rather how she stared at Leon on a regular basis.

"My name is Sora," he told those dark eyes, "and I'm going to be your favorite babysitter in the whole world, yes I am!"

"God, Sora, give me a break," Roxas griped, but he was smiling all the same.

Leon had to admit that his chest hurt a little at the sight of them. He had never thought that he would be allowed to experience this sense of family. Growing up, his family had been loving, but their relations had been slightly strained, due in no small part to himself. Then, as time went on, he had watched his friends all form families for themselves, but he, by choice, had remained alone with his painful memories. To see these three children in front of him now, knowing that he was one of a pair who was responsible for them, it made his heart ache in a way that was incredibly powerful yet soothingly gentle.

The sound of the door opening signaled Cloud's return, so Leon went to help him. He took the diaper bag first, placing it on the table by Xion's carseat, then lifted the briefcase strap from his lover's shoulder. While Cloud took a moment to watch his sons interact with the baby, Leon opened the case and extracted several sheets of paper, clipped together into two packets, and a small box. The box he slid into his pocket; the papers he used to get Cloud's attention by tapping him on the shoulder.

"What's this?" Cloud asked.

"Something for you," he replied.

His expression confused, Cloud nevertheless took the packets and began to read the top sheet. Less than a minute later, he gasped sharply, wide blue eyes snapping up to meet Leon's steady gray gaze. Brokenly, overcome with emotion, he whispered, "Is this what I think it is?"

Sora and Roxas had looked up at their father's sudden intake of breath, and now they both leaned forward in their seats in their worry. "What?" Roxas demanded. "What is it, Dad?"

Never taking his eyes off of the man he loved, Leon answered, "It's paperwork that grants your father full legal rights as Xion's co-guardian. Basically, it'll mean that he'll be her father as well. The second packet grants the same rights to me for the two of you, as long as it's all right with you, that is. You two are old enough that we should take your wishes into account."

"Of course it's all right with us!"

"Geez, Leon, you had to ask?"

"You've been our 'other Dad' for months now. We didn't need a piece of paper for that."

Leon smiled at their beaming faces with genuine gratitude. "Thanks, you two." Shifting his eyes back to Cloud, he said, "That leaves me with just one more thing for you."

"Another surprise?" the other man joked, trying to laugh. "I'm not sure my poor heart can take it."

"This is the last one, I promise." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the box. As he opened it and carefully removed one of the two silver promise rings inside, he said, "I just thought that since we're going to commit to sharing our children, we might as well commit to sharing the rest of our lives as well." Smiling, he offered the ring to Cloud who had a hand over his mouth in a valiant attempt to keep his emotions in check.

Instantly, Sora and Roxas were on their feet, bubbling over with excitement, although Leon was pleased to see that Sora hadn't forgotten he was holding a baby and kept his movements under control.

"He says yes! He says yes!"

"Of course he says yes! Take the ring, Dad! Take it!"

"Excuse me," their father said with mock-irritation, "I am perfectly capable of accepting my own marriage proposal, if you don't mind." Then, his expression softened and he turned to Leon with a smile. "And of course, I accept."

"Good," Leon murmured and slipped the ring onto Cloud's finger. As their children watched, Cloud took the other ring and did the same for Leon.

"Now kiss the bride!"

"Which one's the bride?"

"Who cares? Just kiss already."

Leon and Cloud both laughed, then did as they were told.

End "Come Home"

xXx

Fanart by [DuetMaoim](http://duetmaoim.deviantart.com/)

Fanart by [Zolaida](http://zolaida.deviantart.com/)


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